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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

hi hello i am feeling very angsty so: rhodeytony ft tony's worrying lack of interest in avoiding getting kidnapped and his bodyguard rhodes' increasing stress levels to save a boss that doesn't want to be saved (and, if the flutter in his heart should be anything to go by - should not be his boss anymore). bodyguard to lovers??

Rhodey is a good bodyguard. Hell, he’s the best.

That was why Pepper Potts hired him, after all. He’s not easy to fool, can follow anyone with a dogged determination that nearly defies human nature. He’s had successful stories before with glowing reviews from multiple people from all different threatened backgrounds.

(Including at least three world leaders and a pope.)

Tony Stark is...new. Well, nearly new. He’s a businessman, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Rhodey to deal with.

…except Tony’s highly eclectic, a billionaire, and purposely makes his behavior as erratic as possible.

It’s fun. What can Rhodey say? He loves a challenge, and Tony is about as challenging as they come.

When he first starts, Tony tries every trick in the book. Rhodey still sticks to him, although he does leave some distance. Tony tries to make him uncomfortable by bringing just about everyone who looks home, and all Rhodey says is, “you gonna feed them cereal when they wake up? Because that’s all you have in your pantry right now, and you don’t pay me to do the shopping.”

Tony scowls at that, and then changes his strategy.

It’s an odd strategy.

Tony decides he will just make Rhodey his friend, starting with the nickname of “Rhodey.”

“That’s stupid,” Rhodey says, because he can already tell it will stick.

“Not my problem, just my solution,” Tony grins. “Now come on, we’re getting burgers.”

They’re at a sit-down restaurant. One of Tony’s favorites, actually. Rhodey is not sure why he’s sitting down across from the man with the most influence in the world, but he is.

“So, what’s new with you? Who are you?” Tony asks. “Pepper sent me your file. You’re from Philly, right?”

“Oh my god, you sound weird when you say it like that,” Rhodey says, deciding against formality as he basically tells Tony Stark that he sounds weird and shouldn’t say “Philly.”

“Oh what, is that not what the locals call it?”

“I’m going to take you there and they’re going to beat you up.”

“Not the worst Sunday night I’ve ever had,” Tony mentions. “Hey, look at the menu. I don’t want you to flounder when the waitress shows up and you know fuck-all about what they have to offer.”

“Okay asshole, any recommendations?”

“The banana milkshake and bacon-burger.”

Rhodey looks at the menu.

He does end up with the bacon-burger, but chooses strawberry for his flavor of milkshake.

“You traitor.”

“Oh am I? Well then let me tell Pepper that you stole the last good pen she had then-”

Tony flings a fry at him, and Rhodey laughs.

Here’s a concerning thing: Tony has a very “c’est la vie” approach about kidnapping.

Like he genuinely doesn’t really give a shit if he knows what’s going on, or even if he doesn’t.

Rhodey was eagle-eyed and chased a van three fucking blocks and caught up to the driver, wherein he punched his lights out and got Tony out. His hands were bound in zip-ties and his suit was rumpled, but Tony just blinked at him.

“You think you broke a racing record with that?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they take anything?”

Rhodey’s all over Tony, checking for any injuries, any stolen wallets or watches, and thank god everything is there. (Not that Tony would really care if anything was stolen, save for his sunglasses. He spends far too much on those, in Rhodey’s opinion.)

“Okay geez,” Tony says, batting Rhodey’s hands away. “I’m fine. These people were amateurs. Shit, I’m running late for my consultation meeting, aren’t I?”

“You just got kidnapped,” Rhodey says, tone rife with disbelief. “You just got taken and your concern is with the consultation meeting?”

“Well I figured that you were going to come by or I’d be gone a lot longer, but now that I’m not? Yeah. Yeah, I am concerned with the consultation meeting. It’s a tech start-up company, only not that shitty Silicon-nice-guy start-up. It’s a more inclusive thing. I don’t know, I read their little ‘about’ section on their website. Which needs work. But that’s besides the point.”

Rhodey just follows, dumb in disbelief.

The few rare times that previous clients have been kidnapped or even attempted, they’ve needed a day to recuperate at minimum. They were shaken up, and usually beefed up the security for the rest of time after it. They also scheduled therapy appointments.

Tony treated this like it was a traffic jam and he was only running five minutes behind.

The second time it happens when Rhodey’s there, it lasts a little longer.

Rhodey has to admit, he maybe did some...under-the-radar looks. The FBI wasn’t moving fast enough, and the legal channels weren’t up to snuff. And besides, Tony did say that he could use Jarvis if he really wanted to.

(Turns out they both went to MIT at the same time, and Tony had been that obnoxiously short guy in his econ class that rarely showed up, but when he did he showed up in a suspiciously nice outfit.)

It was a weekend. Rhodey had gone away for two seconds to get a drink for Tony and then he was gone.

It was...bad.

The problem is this:

Tony definitely doesn’t need to be kidnapped as often as he is. He has so many inventions that can prevent that, he’s sold quite a few of them to the military.

But for some fucking reason, he doesn’t want to be saved. No, he’s content just going along with what’s happening, even though everyone else around him wants him back. Needs him back.

He finds him bruised and tied up to a shitty folding chair.

“Hey darling,” Tony says, lips a bloody red. “Can you believe this chair? I would’ve thought they would at least have gotten something a tad nicer. I am their best-dressed guest, after all.”

Rhodey looks over the torn shirt and the pants that have all but been shredded. His shoes are battered and stained beyond repair.

“Don’t,” Rhodey says. He sounds tired. He is tired. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, get kidnapped? I hardly try,” Tony snaps. “Or do I just have a sign on my back that you didn’t know was there?”

“You know I was in the Air Force,” Rhodey snaps back. “I got high enough clearance that I was one of the guys who got to see what brand new toy you sent our way. I know you could use any of those, shit, you probably tested it out, so you would know.”

“And your point?” Tony asks. “What, you’re saying I should know better? Saying you know better than me?”

“You know what? Yeah, yeah I am saying that,” Rhodey yells as he’s untying him. “I am fucking saying that I know more than you because you couldn’t give less of a shit if you tried about your own well-being! You were kidnapped and I’ve been running myself ragged trying to get you back, and you just don’t care!”

Tony stares at him. Really stares at him.

“Let’s go home.”

Nothing else is said in the car ride home. Tony can’t even look at Rhodey.

They go home, where Pepper greets Tony with a hug and makes him swear not to leave again, and Tony says “I promise,” only they both know that he’s lying.

But they’re not calling him out on it yet. No, not tonight.

Rhodey stays. Technically he doesn’t have to. Jarvis is the most advanced artificial intelligence system in the world. Hell, he’s the only one that’s even in his league, but Rhodey just...feels better staying.

And Tony’s mansion is a gargantuan structure with about twenty different rooms to choose from, so Rhodey gets a nice view and tries to go to bed.

He’s never gotten enough sleep. He knows he never would. That’s why the army loved him: he could be up at any hour and he’d be fine. That’s why his dad called him the bane of his existence in a loving manner: Rhodey would be up at four in the morning filling out the crossword before anyone else could.

He’s up at four a.m. making breakfast.

Tony’s pantry is still shit, but it looks like Pepper went shopping for him or had someone else do it, because he actually has eggs and juice and actual food instead of the odd pickle jar or way-too-old yogurt.

“You’re...up,” Tony says.

Rhodey turns around.

“Sorry. I, um. Stayed.”

“It’s fine,” Tony says awkwardly. “What are you making?”

“Omelet.”

“I always mess those up,” he says. “Either too much cheese or I forget I’m cooking it.”

“You want one?”

“You gonna make me one?”

“Accidentally cracked one too many eggs, so yes. You want onions and spinach in yours?”

“Sure,” Tony says. “What are you doing up?”

“Always bad at sleeping,” Rhodey answers. “Can never really stay asleep for too long.”

“Forget to take your melatonin gummies?” Tony answers, grinning.

Rhodey can see a bruise on his collarbone.

“You sleep okay?”

“No, but I rarely ever do,” Tony says. “Especially after yesterday’s fiasco.”

“You mean the whole weekend,” Rhodey says, putting the rest of the eggs into the pan. “Can’t imagine that was fun.”

“Oh come on, it was a ball,” Tony answers sarcastically. “They let me play cops-and-robbers and I was given pizza. Clearly it was a fantastic time.”

Rhodey stares at Tony.

“You know in the contract that I had you sign it specifically states that you have to let me help you, right?”

“It says you have to rescue me regardless of feelings or previous obligations,” Tony says.

“Rescuing you doesn’t just mean I chase after vans and track you down in an abandoned warehouse, it means that I rescue you from those situations before they can happen. But I can only do that if you agree that you won’t get kidnapped,” he says.

“And what, I want to?” Tony asks. “Do I say that?”

“You don’t have to,” Rhodey says, flipping the omelet over. “You never think you’re worth rescuing it because you think you’re never going to be good enough and I think you think that you owe me for giving a shit.”

Tony looks at him.

“You’re really honest.”

“I try to be.”

“I love that about you.”

Rhodey’s hand shakes slightly as he moves the omelet a bit in the pan. He hopes Tony doesn’t notice.

“Well I would love it if you stopped being kidnapped.”

“Aye aye, Colonel Rhodes,” Tony says, saluting. Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“Oh my god, do not.”

“What, am I not supposed to thank our armed services for making this country safe?” he mocks, standing up. “For going above and beyond the call of patriotism and helping keep Americans everywhere safe?”

Rhodey threatens to eat his omelet when he breaks into singing the national anthem.

There’s an...understanding.

Tony starts taking up training with Happy and almost agrees to regular training with Rhodey until Rhodey wants him to get up at six and do some workouts, and he yells “No!” after one workout session.

Rhodey pointedly pretends like he’s not staring at Tony’s chest when he lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat.

“Come on Rhodey my darling, let’s do breakfast.”

Tony dragging him to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. It’s...nice. Rhodey ignores it when Tony waggles his eyebrows as he takes the check and calls him “darling, honey, baby,” and he lets him because it sounds nice.

He doesn’t say anything to Tony. No, you can’t date your boss. It’s unprofessional as hell and Tony probably is just doing it because Rhodey’s in close proximity and they have a good banter going.

The next time that Tony has an attempted kidnapping, Rhodey is there.

He’s there, and he’s being taken away, dragged from Tony, and Tony for the first time looks terrified.

Rhodey tries to struggle, tries to do anything, because Tony has to get away, and he...

He’s knocked unconscious.

When he wakes up, his head hurts worse than it ever has, and for a moment he’s pissed at Tony because he forgets that he’s been kidnapped and there’s no control over the thermostat because the room is hot as all get out.

And then he sees Tony across from him, and he’s never seen Tony angry.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, voice shaking. “I’ll get us out of here. I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault we have assholes take us,” Rhodey says. “But god I would kill for some air conditioning.”

Tony smiles a bit at that.

Here’s a problem: you cannot give Tony Stark anything if you want him to not escape. Either that or he has to be unconscious because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.

And they used actual handcuffs to keep him there. God, what a joke.

Tony learned how to break out of handcuffs when he was twenty and chained to a bedpost on accident. (Long story.)

This is nothing.

But the problem is that Rhodey’s here. His bodyguard who really shouldn’t be putting his life on the line for someone as shitty as Tony, but here they are, and he has to get him out.

“Follow my lead,” Tony whispers.

“Well of course I will, who else has as much experience being kidnapped as you?” Rhodey mutters.

“Okay is now going to be the time where you sass me? You’re here too. I could leave you.”

“You’re not gonna do that, Pepper would make you come back.”

“No she wouldn’t.”

“Yeah she would!”

“Not after I tell her that you used the last of her salad dressing.”

“Shit.”

Tony snorts, looking at the room. They don’t have security cameras, which is just...questionable. Oh my god, he got kidnapped by amateurs.

He’s kind of embarrassed.

Rhodey gets free, and they’re both headed towards a door, and Rhodey picks up a stray part of a metal pole, and Tony cannot lie and say he’s not intrigued by that.

Not saying he hopes Rhodey gets to use it.

He’s just curious how he’ll utilize it.

They get to just. Walk out. They fucking walk out. What kind of people did they get kidnapped from? It can’t be that easy, can it?

It can’t be...

It is.

Okay sure Tony is driving in a hotwired car and they’re being shot at, but all things considered that’s not the worst thing. And the truck is probably considered stolen anyways, and once Tony makes it to the highway, it’s not like they’ll be able to follow without making it onto national news, not that they haven’t already.

Pepper’s very effective at getting things to trend on national news when she wants to.

Rhodey is sitting on a beach chair. He shouldn’t be, and he also shouldn’t be drinking a mimosa because it’s four p.m. and definitely the morning, but he figures since he got kidnapped he’s allowed at least one mimosa.

“So. Your first kidnapping?” Tony asks. “All things considered, yours went well. I think next time we should go to Wendy’s or something, I was starving-”

“I’m just. I’m glad we’re okay,” Rhodey says. “But yeah. Maybe next time. If there is a next time. I’m going to I think make you hold hands with me so that you don’t get napped by terrible, shitty people.”

“You could’ve just asked to hold my hand, we didn’t need to be kidnapped together,” Tony says.

“Hm, is that a breach of contract?” Rhodey teases.

“Only if Pepper decides to enforce it, and she won’t because you’re the first bodyguard to have an actual success story with me,” Tony says. “So. I’m thinking maybe we skip the kidnapping next time and go straight for dinner.”

“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna say a fast food restaurant.”

“I still could, you don’t know,” Tony grins, winking. “What if our first date is to Burger King? What are you gonna do?”

“Be mad that I still like you,” Rhodey grumbles.

Tony cackles, dropping a kiss onto his hand.

“Do you think I should get another bodyguard or will dragging you away during a party be too awkward for them?”

“...I’ll think about it.”

(They don’t get a new bodyguard.

No matter how much the other security complains that Rhodey’s the only one who knows where Tony is at all times, and they can’t exactly ask them if they’re busy doing...things.

Rhodey finds it hilarious.)

#longer night than usual for me which meant more time to work on this beauty #this has been in my inbox for months #so my apologies #but uhhhh i still did it! which is good #lovelyirony writes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #rhfe #rhodey #tony stark #pepper potts #rhodey is in love and so is tony and they're both so LAME about it #tony doesn't really care about being kidnapped #meant to make this more angsty but was not feeling it

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kaito-is-baby · 4 years

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Um, can I have the sdr2 boys (if it's not too much) with an s/o that thinks they may be cheating, but they're actually trying to propose? Like they're busy all the time. Hopefully this isn't too much for you, I know you do dr1 a lot. You're one of my favorite imagine writers!

Awww Thank you so so much!!! I do DR1 a lot but I also love my DR2 and DRV3 babies so don't be afraid to request them. Okay, let's go to the imagine

I made Kazuichi, Fiyuhiko and Komaeda so so long so the rest are a little bit simple but I still find them cute, sorry for that

SDR2 BOYS PROPOSING TO THEIR S/O WHO THINKS THEY ARE CHEATING

Hajime Hinata

•He's been really distant lately

•Sneaking out whenever someone calls him

•Making up excuses to not assist to your dates...

•You don't want to think about it but you do

•It really seems like he is cheating

•And you are very sad now

•He tries to convince you to go with him to the beach

•On a date!

•You don't really want to go but you accept and try to talk to him about it

•"Hajime... is there something you are hiding me?"

•"What? No, not at all"

•You choose to trust him and forget about the issue

•Even if you are a little tense

•When nights falls you want to make him a little surprise and go tot he sand to write I love you on it

•And as you walk backwards you crash against something

•You turn around and it's your boyfriend

•In one knee and showing you a ring

•Oh, and you really though he was cheating on you

•He would never! He loves you enough to ask you to spend all your life with him!

•He gives you a long speech about all you two have been through

•And you can't really focus on it because you are too excited

•"S/O I love you, truly and forever, will you marry me?"

•You don't give him any answer, you just jump onto his arms and no words are needed

Nagito Komaeda

•He tried, he really tried so hard to make it cute

•But you know how his luck works

•The first thing he tried was to buy your favourite book and hide a ring on it

•As a reference for that love for books you two shared

•He took you out to a very fancy restaurant

•And you two had a great night

•And then he wanted to give you a gift, the book

•You opened it and no special reaction was given

•Of course you liked it but it wasn’t the reaction he expected

•Well, of course, you didn't know he was proposing

•Because there was no ring at all, it was lost

•He understood it pretty fast and tried another thing

•He tried to propose at the lake after a romantic day on there you two alone

•But a fish ate the ring

•And he tried to propose with fireworks

•But he ended up a little burned

• You started to doubt him, you knew he was hiding you something and all of those weird dates didn’t help, you liked him beiing extra romantic but he had been busy all week and at the end of every single date he looked quite... dissapointed?

• You know Komaeda would never cheat on you, he adores you

• But it looked like he was cheating definetly

•Luckily, before you went absolutely mad or he killed himself trying to propose, he gave up

•"Look, S/O, I've been trying, really but it looks like my luck isn't on our side for this" he gave you his usual tender smile that smile that made you feel calm whenever you saw it "I love you and all of the bad luck from this world is worth it if it means I can spend my life with you forever, I know it is selfish to want someone as great and hopeful as you all for me and even more if there is no ring-"

• Oh, god, he wasn’t cheating, he was trying to propose all along!

•You cut him with a passionate kiss before he starts degrading himself

•"I want to marry you, Komaeda, I want to marry you because you are the greatest person I've ever met and I don't care about your luck, the ring or whatever you think of yourself, I want to spend my life with you"

•And after a long long kiss Komaeda finally says something

•"Yeah, I am definetely the lucky student, that's how I managed to find someone like you"

Kazuichi Souda

• Kazuichi had been working on his repair shop all week

• And you hadn’t seen him a lot in the past month

• But what made you more anxious was the fact that he hadn’t told you about waat he was working in

• He would usually spend hours talking about his inventions

• And you adored to listen to him because he loked too happy while doing it

• But this time he was keeping it a secret

• And you were a little bothered

• You didn’t want to admit it because Kazuichi was the most caring and attent guy you had ever met

• And he loved you deeply

• But he was also easily distrated by other people

• You knew he would never cheat on you

• But sometimes you were specially sensitive about it if he had been delusioning too much lately

• And that along with the lack of communication issue made you paranoid

• But then Kazuichi called you and planned a date for the next day

• You had to go to his repair shop and so he would bring you somewhere

• You went to his repair shop the next day

• And the wall was projecting something

• He was trying to fix a projector all this time?

• You see then what is being projected

• It shows all of your relationship

• How you two met, how he felt in love with you, your first dates, your first problems, the moment when you two started to be really in love with each other, the tragedy, the killing game... absolutely everything

• And when you were on the verge of tears the projector started to sho things that hadn’t happened

• Yet

• Like you dressing for your edding, a big family house,, picures of you to on it

• Cookig, cuddling, playing videogames, talking about his machines... all with matching rings in both your hands

• Some kids maybe?

• And it ends with two elders you on that house, spending all your life together

• And when you turn around and finaly see him he is in one knee giving you a ring

• And you were thinking you had lost him... you had been such an idiot

• He doesn’t really propose because he just can’t talk

• And you can't either, being honest

• You finaly manage to spit out a “yes” between all of your tears

• And then he is hugging you

• With sucb strentgh yuo breath, he is just way too nervious

• Your poor boy is shaking and his heart razes at lighting speed

• And once he calms down he whispers lots of “thank you”s to your ear

• I mean, he is so thankful for having you on his life... expect a lot of spoiling for the next few weeks

Gundham Tanaka

• Let’s be honest you have always been a little jealous of Sonia

• They were always so... close

• And he had been spending his time in her bedroom more than usual

• Canceling your dates to go see her

• To the point when you started to think that his Devas were sleeping in Sonia’s bedroom

• And you were paranoid

• And that was too much

• You were about to lose it when the Devas came to your room

• Carrying a little box with them

• You took it in your hands and opened it

• To find a beautiful, pure black ring

• It was a rather scary ring, you could almost see hell inside it

• But that was your boyfriend style and you loved it!

• You knew what this meant

• He wasn’t cheating with Sonia, she was helping him and the Devas prepare all of this

• “S/O my dear” It was your boyfriend behind you “there is no one as powerful and valuable as you in this world, and having you by my side has made my power increase" He took your hand in his "would you be the spouse of Tanaka the forbidden?”

• “Yes, yes, yes, of course I will!”

• He kissed your hand before putting the ring in your finger

• “I swear I will make you the happiest person alive, my queen/king of darkness”

Fuyuhiko Kuuzuryu

•He asks Peko for help

•And after all your little talks Fuyuhiko knows what he is going to do

•Peko isn't either but she is your friend and can ask you something discreetly to find put what would make you happy

•He isn't the best with this things

•On the next summer festival, during the fireworks he will ask you to marry him

•You said you used to love the fireworks as a child and that Fuyuhiko was always handsome on his yukata

•He was fully prepared to make your week amazing and romantic and end it with the fireworks and the proposition

•Well, you said more things but those were the most important for him

•And you weren't suspecting a thing thanks to Peko

•But then things went wrong

•The Kuzuryuu clan enemies attacked

•And he didn't want you to know

•And a lot of yakuza's business had place during the festival

•And he couldn't attend it with you

•He was mysterious, angrier than usual and failed you on the festival

•And you realized then that Peko had been covering him all this time but he had been very distant

•And then those thoughts about him cheating appeared

•Nah, he would never cheat

•He was too sweet to do it, right?

•RIGHT?

•Peko accompanied you all night long

•It was to keep you save but you thought it was to make you forget about your boyfriend abandoning you on your favourite festival

•When the fireworks ended and you arrived at home all that you wanted to do was cry on your bed

•But then Fuyuhiko was there

•With a little box of fireworks on his hands

•"I'm late, I know, but those fucking morons- I... It took me longer than I thought to fix some problems but I'm here"

•"Problems? What kind of problems?"

•"Yakuza's problems"

•"You should have told me"

•"I didn't want to ruin your night and... I brought fireworks"

•You would like to be angry but you imagined Fuyuhiko with all of his bad temper and anger issues searching for a place to buy fireworks just to cheer you up and you couldn't help but to smile and thanks the world for sending you this wholesome boy

•You went to kiss your boyfriend and watched his special fireworks together when he pulled out a little box of pants

•He was not only worrying about not worrying you and making you enjoy the festival, he was also trying to propose to you

•He was definitely the best boyfriend you could have asked for

•And now he was going to be your husband!!!

Nekomaru Nidai

•He was untraceable all the time

•You offered him to do something and he was too busy

•He wasn't even going to the gym

•Something was wrong here

•And you suspected the worse

•Some days passed by and he kept being ilocalizable and you kept overthinking it all

•Until he asked you to go on a walk with him

•A mountain walk of course because it is Nidai, remember?

•And when you were about to ask him if he didn't love you anymore he disappeared

•And the next thing you saw was a plane on the sky writting with its fume

•It said 'S/O will you marry me'

•And behind you your boyfriend arrived in paracaidas

•With a ring in a box in his hands

•Man, he'd put as many passion onto this as he did usually

•And he almost make you lose your head!

•You run to him and hugged him

•And he spinned you around in his arms

•"I will take that as a yes" he said with his characteristically loud laugh

•That laugh that you loved so much

•And now you would hear it FOREVER!!!

Teruteru Hanamura

•He takes you out to the best restaurant on town

•Your house

•With him as the cook your dinner room will be the best restaurant you had ever been to

•He tries to decorate it as romantic as possible

•But being him it looks more like an acenary from an... adult movie

•You called him and no responses

•But still when you arrive home you love it!

•He has been so distant lately

•And with his constant comments to the people around you it was easy for you to think he would cheat on you

•But no, he was planning this surprise right?

•Yeah, sure it was that

•Your boyfriend's dishes were spectacular

•But your favourite plate was the dessert without any doubt

•And no, Teruteru wasn't the dessert even if he joked about it

•It was a beautiful pink an white cake

•And inside of it a ring

•"S/O, I had never met somebody like you, in you I found another family and I want to be with you forever, will you marry me?"

•"Of course yes babe!!" Is the only thing you say before kissing him

Byakuya Twogami (ultimate imposter)

•They didn't really know how to propose to you

•They had never had nobody that loved them for who they were

•They never had nobody who knew them at all

•Except you

•And they wanted to spend the rest of their life with you

•But how? They dressed up as joyero to ask the costumers about their ideas

•But then you saw them and another person (who were just they digused) and started to think he was cheating on you

•You know where dies he gets all inspiration from

•You eventhough it so much that you decided to ask them once they were at home

•"Oh, S/O, baby" they laughed "I wanted to make it special but it will only make it worse" he se puso sober una rodilla and you already knew what he was doing

•And you were so so happy

•"Yeees!" You answered before they could even ask the question

•You just jump over them tirandola al suelo and hugging then

•You were so so very happy and so were them

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hottestthingalive · 3 years

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Hi I want to hear more about the tommy-with-a-camera agenda, or any ideas like it, or any concepts/headcanons you think about... just anything really

oh anon. oh anon the power you've given me. oh the sharing my dsmp headcanons power. oh good golly gee willickers

anyways, camera au:

-tommy's camera broke while he was dead -- it had been on its last legs already, but being in a chest in a very hot prison buried under all of tommy's other belongings did it no favors. it was tubbo and ranboo who helped him fix it: ranboo paid for the materials, and tubbo showed him how to make the repairs. they were going to buy him a whole new one, but tubbo knew as soon as he saw tommy holding it (like a lifeline, like a saving grace, like the way he held the discs, long ago) that that wouldn't be an option. it works much better now that it's been fixed, and they even repainted it!

-speaking of the camera, i firmly believe that tommy puts stickers all over that thing, as well as everything else. c!tommy has stickers person vibes. someone got him a sticker machine once and he's been obsessed with making his own stickers ever since. he also has a sticker collection. something something the inherent impermanence of stickers and tommy managing to love them anyways, and painstakingly collecting and saving the ones that have fallen off or been torn in a box beneath his bed something something angsty fluff. anyways.

outside of the tommy with a camera agenda hcs:

-you know how when you spend enough time around people you start to pick up on their mannerisms? spend enough time around bad and you'll eventually accidentally pick up his cursing aversion and his substitute cursing. there was a point where the whole eggpire called their enemies muffinheads.

-tubbo and ranboo make a point out of always putting michael to bed at night. because they can't always both be there but want to make sure it happens, they'll coordinate ahead of time and message each other, but also have a calendar in the kitchen in snowchester to mark down whether or not they'll be able to do it that night. although the calendar was originally used solely for michael’s bedtime routine, they started using it for other stuff, too: holidays and anniversaries and events and everything in between. ranboo keeps that same calendar copied down in his memory book. they let michael decorate the days of it when he's bored.

-techno likes to joke about phil chronically adopting kids, and threatens to send him to adopters' anonymous, so in retaliation, phil pokes fun about how techno's got a veritable zoo of pets, and how he should “start charging admission to his house at this rate”. neither of them like to talk about tommy much, but both of them have just narrowly avoided bringing him up in their ribbing (techno as an example of phil's terrible taste in adoptive children, phil as an example of techno's issue with adopting pets -- "even tommy was essentially a raccoon!").

-i am a sucker for techno and tubbo's dynamic, and so i am constantly having thoughts about what might happen if they became friends in canon. think about that concept for two seconds and tell me it doesn't make you whether fear for your life and/or fill you with pure chaotic glee. anyways tubbo "battlebox ace extraordinare" "was beating tommy before the 'discs were worth more than you ever were' thing" "genuinely a brilliant pvper" underscore sparring with/being trained by technoblade is a very fun idea.

-i also love the idea of techno or phil trying to give tubbo a shovel talk and him giving them one instead. in general the idea of phil and techno being mildly terrified of tubbo but unable/unwilling to do anything about it fills me with glee because i just imagine a scenario in the far-off future where techno, ranboo, phil and tubbo are all standing off against someone and techno's just standing in the background letting tubbo do his thing because he genuinely believes that terrifying teenager could easily kill a man. all for c!techno being team "genuinely believes tubbo could do anything and would be surprised and a little offended if you said otherwise". i think these grown men who are colloquially considered gods should fear this 5′6 teenager. as a treat

-quackity keeps his engagement rings in a safe with the deed to las nevadas, his contracts with the members of it, and his old marriage papers to schlatt. only slime knows where they are. some nights, he’ll take them out of the safe and turn them over in his fingers, wondering what went wrong.

-speaking of slime, i firmly believe that, in an attempt to introduce him to human culture, quackity sat him down in front of a tv and told him to go to town. quackity initially set the tv to documentary channels, national geographic and all that, but things went downhill as soon as slime discovered cable television. he's watched so many sitcoms. partially because of this, slime is CONVINCED that quackity, karl and sapnap are having some dramatic dispute that will be solved in "the next few episodes" or that they are secretly still together and have to hide their relationship for the time being for some unknown reason. also, slime now talks like someone in a 70s or 80s sitcom a lot of the time, and, because he's not human, can make Definitely Not Human noises, including playing a laugh track or a dramatic sound effect. this does not go over well when he's in political meetings with quackity.

-karl's been doing not so great lately. he swears he's lost something, that he's forgotten something hugely important -- but any time he tries to figure out what it is, he gets distracted, usually by another bout of time travel. it's odd, he thinks, how often sapnap mentions quackity -- almost as if he's more important to them than karl remembers -- and then karl forgets again. maybe i should start keeping a memory book, he muses, and then wonders where he got that idea from, and then he's distracted by plans for a new build in kinoko, and he forgets about even his memory issues for the time being. he thinks that he might have lost something. and then he forgets even that.

-puffy and sam, after breaking free of the eggs' control, could still hear it in their heads sometimes, promising things, screaming at them, threatening everyone they loved. puffy dealt with her nightmares by visiting her children and setting up an appointment with someone in another server for online therapy -- sam dealt with his by sleeping less and working at the prison more and more and more. one of those methods was far more effective than the other, and sam's lack of sleep has continued even with the egg gone, which has done him no favors.

-is purpled an alien? is purpled just some dude who likes space? what even is a purpled? no one knows but there’s loads of conspiracy theories running around about the guy. he’s just vibing and doesn’t really care but he does like to encourage some of the ones he thinks are funniest.

-thanks to wilbur “how confusing and convoluted can i make my family tree” soot, people are, in fact, super fucking confused about wilbur & phil & fundy’s family. phil, after initially being annoyed about it, decided to just go with the chaos and has somehow made it worse. there’s a running joke in the smp now that if someone doesn’t know their family/doesn’t have a family/is just friends with wil, fundy or phil, they’re “on the soot family tree”.

i’ve got more headcanons (i could ramble about dsmp stuff for ages, it’s truly insane) but i’ll leave it here for now. hope you enjoy, anon!

#dsmp #bunch of people listed here and i am. lazy. and also don't want to clog up the main tags. so.#tommy with a camera agenda #asks #anon #cinder's headcanons

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

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The Pretender Next Door Part 2 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Warning: Swearing. Summary: Lying is despicable, but nothing beats the humiliation of pretending you have a lovely boyfriend when, in fact, you have none. Could your handsome neighbor help you, though? Words: 2138. Part 1 _____________________________________ It went better you thought it would. Your colleagues were mostly friendly and open, your work environment seemed both interesting and challenging enough, and living in the new apartment was comfortable and pretty peaceful. Well, that man from the 5th floor was singing songs from Bridget Jones Diary on Friday mornings really loudly, but you were an early bird, so you didn’t care, truly. You hadn’t seen Steve much, though it was more an advantage rather than not. He wasn’t bringing any girls into his apartment, and it really bothered you. Worse, he wasn’t bringing any boys either. Your last hope was that Steve belonged to some kind of swingers club or something and had orgies in a different place.

Swingers club? Damn, girl. This man was making you crazy.

You did your best to forget about that perfection of a man living next door. You needed to build your life from scratch in this mad city of New York, and having relationships now was not on your list. In fact, it had never been.

One busy month had already passed when you got a chance to talk to Steve again. You were stepping inside the elevator, tired after work. Next week you were organizing a big holiday party for employees, and things were going more and more stressful with each day. It turned out that way more people had allergies they didn’t state previously, most of them new employees like you, and you had to adjust the menu; then that band your VP of Marketing wanted to have suddenly asked more money than you discussed before, and…

Well, event planning was always like that. Why complaining now when you spend all those years in college and then decided to move to NY? It was predictable. What was unpredictable was you lying to your married colleagues that you had a boyfriend. Why on Earth did you say that? Yes, it was a bit embarrassing to be the only woman who wasn’t in a relationship, but did you ultimately have to lie about it? It was so stupid and childish. Surely, there were more than one single woman in New York.

Anyway, you had a bottle of white wine and Netflix movies waiting for you at home. You would deal with everything else later, including your imaginary boyfriend.

“Wait, please!”

You snapped out of your thoughts and immediately pressed a button to leave the doors open, and the next second Steve almost flew inside the elevator. Oh, was he just in front of you and you hadn’t seen him again? Seriously, you needed to put yourself together.

“Hello.” You smiled a bit shyly and pressed another button to get the elevator moving.

He looked as handsome as always in his dark blue jacket and… oh God, he could wear nothing at all and still looked like a prince. No clothes at all would be far more preferable…

“Hello.” His glowing smile made it hard to keep your eyes off his face.

Nonono, just stop staring and keep your eyes down. You had enough things on your plate already, there was no place left for a giant sun named Steve Rogers who would indeed burn you to ashes the same second you decide to come closer.

“So, are we going the same floor?” He suddenly asked. Wait, did he forget you literally lived next door?

“Um, yes.”

Steve scratched the back of his head; for a few seconds he seemed lost in thought. You decided to drop it. Maybe he had a bad memory or something.

“Oh, I get it, you probably visiting my new neighbor.” He just grinned through those perfectly white teeth.

What? Did he already forget he spent at least half an hour in your hallway repairing your bookshelf? Just how bad was his memory if he didn’t recognize your face, for God’s sake? Well, anyway, if you wanted him to have a flaw, you had to be happy he got one. Better than being a secret swinger, wasn’t it?

“Actually, I am your new neighbor.” You let out an awkward laugh and stared at your pretty kitten heels shoes you bought before leaving Key West. Why were you upset? You just thought about not getting into relationship with anyone. Besides, you doubted you had a chance to date Steve Rogers even if New York’s female population would be five times smaller its actual size.

Lost in your thoughts again, you missed his immediate change of expression, his face completely red with embarrassment and shame.

“God, I’m an idiot with a fish’s memory span.” He groaned and looked somewhere up, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry! I mean, of course I remember you, Y/N, it just, ugh, you know… you just look a bit different and… Jesus Christ, I’m gonna say something stupid again, aren’t I?.. Just, ugh, sorry.”

With the guilt all over his pretty face he reminded you of a puppy who ate someone’s shoe, and you chuckled. It wasn’t as bad as you though, he still remembered your name. It was true you were different comparing to the day he met you – you were wearing way more makeup, including bright lipstick, to look older for your colleagues who were in their 40s and 50s. You also had a nice New Look black dress, and your hair were curled. Although you did not expect to look so different to others, maybe Steve simply didn’t take a closer look at your face that time?

And you could still take it as his flaw. Not bad enough, but still something!

“Don’t worry, you only saw me two times in your life.” You laughed it off and stepped out of the elevator once the doors were open. “Now if you see here a grumpy old woman with Ikea bags please remember the way I looked today.”

Steve followed you into a narrow corridor and burst out laughing, his face slowly losing its funny redness. You suspected he still felt kind of guilty, but he tried to keep it cool when you bid him goodbye and entered your apartment.

Thinking of any other possible flaws he might have, you took off your shoes and threw you bag on the comfy grey sofa in the middle of the room. You were finally home. Now you could change into your favorite blue pyjamas and fluffy slippers, take off your makeup and have some good time watching your favorite romcoms. Although you didn’t have anything for dinner, you could easily order something like a nice pizza or lasagna from that family-owned pizzeria around the corner.

The next hour you spent in a tub, washing away your worries. One was still there though: what were you supposed to do with your imaginary boyfriend? Your biggest issue was that your colleagues asked you to bring him to the party. Of course, they thought it was a nice gesture since they often brought their own husbands and boyfriends, but now they just made your life way more difficult. Even if you could say your boyfriend got sick or something at the day of the event, what then? Thankfully, no one demanded to see your photos yet, but they could. And they might ask you to bring him to dinners they had altogether sometimes, and God knows what else.

You were stupid enough to make up some super romantic story about a perfect guy any girl would like to date. It was embarrassing to think of it now, but you definitely got affected by the marriage stories of your colleagues who spent the whole lunch hour talking about their lovely husbands. Your problem was you tried to fit in too much.

Well, you probably had to come up with something about breaking up once you moved to NY. Funny, because your “boyfriend” was living here and waiting for you for a year to come over and transform your long-distance relationships into something bigger. Hell, you even said you might marry him. Why were you so careless? Why did your colleagues’ opinions matter so much?

You sighed, putting on an old black hoodie. You were hopeless.

Then you heard the doorbell rang and frowned. You were not expecting anyone since you didn’t order your pizza yet.

You hurried to the door in your slippers and put your hair into a ponytail on the way. It was around 8 pm. Who could it be? Did someone just mistake your apartment for someone’s else? You knew your aunt wasn’t coming without telling you first, and no one else knew where you moved to.

But you opened the door, and you found glowing Steve there with a plate in his hands. You were so stunned you just kept standing there until you heard him snicker. Wait, what? Steve? Did he need to borrow anything? Why was he here?

“H-hi Steve. Please, come in.” You stepped back awkwardly to let him go inside and saw him smiling even wider once he spotted your fluffy blue slippers. Could it get even more humiliating than that?

“Hi there. I’ve actually come to apologize properly for the… well, you know.” He almost looked like he was blushing a bit. “And I brought you a lemon pie. Although I baked it myself, I swear it’s not poisonous!”

Great, your absolutely perfect blue-eyed neighbor with blond hair and a winning smile was so nice he brought you a homemade pie. Girl, you were losing it. Maybe he was a serial killer instead of a swinger? It would make sense, indeed. Maybe it wasn’t wise touching this pie? Damn, you hoped he tried to kill you instead of just being nice, because Steve was clearly out of this world.

“I mean… not like baked it the way my mother did… more like googling an easy recipe online and putting everything I found into an instant pot…”

You were ready to slap yourself when you saw Steve fidgeting nervously in the hallway. You had to keep your lovely neighbor out of your mind.

“Thank you so much.” Taking the plate from his huge warm hands you felt your body temperature rising. “But you didn’t have to do that. There’s nothing to be sorry about!”

“No, I was being stupid and…”

“Well, whatever. Just come here and share this pie with me so I can check if it’s poisonous or not.” You tried your best to make a joke out of it and laughed, nodding towards the kitchen. “I can make either tea or coffee. What would you prefer? Um, if you’d like to stay, of course.”

“Only if you don’t mind the guy who couldn’t recognise his own neighbor.”

You spent the next hour chatting about anything and everything. Even though you had never been talkative with people you barely knew, Steve had seemed so trustworthy and friendly you were not able to stop. He talked a lot too, telling you more about himself, claiming he was “just a kid from Brooklyn.” He didn’t finish his university degree because of some financial issues and was now working in an auto repair shop. He still wanted to return to engineering, though, but the only jobs he was offered were some unpaid internships and things like that. And he also played guitar. And he had just finished renovating his own apartment.

The only flaw you found was his issue with keeping the rooms clean as he was overly impressed with your place and how tidy it was. Well, it was something.

Then you had somehow told him about your work, new company, colleagues, the event, and… and that imaginary boyfriend of yours. When you realized you complained about your silly lies, it was already late. Steve was biting his lips not to laugh. Oh, great. Now he was thinking how pitiful you were, pretending to have someone in order to gain some respect from your new coworkers. What kind of girl would say these things to a man like him? You were clearly out of your mind. The only good thing about it was that Steve would probably walk out of your apartment and never come back again.

“Please don’t think I’m laughing at you. It’s… a bit funny, I mean, that you think there’s nothing you could do with your issue.” He grinned at you, almost pouting like a little baby. “Think of it, you just need to ask some guy you know to pretend he’s your boyfriend. Ask him to come with you to this holiday event, and then some time later you can say you broke up with him.”

For a minute you fell silent, staring at the guy in front of you with wide eyes.

“Wait, but I don’t know anyone here. I can’t merely go to anyone on the street and ask him to do this for me, right?”

“Well, for starters, you know me.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve x reader #romcom au #captain america

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mythologyfolklore · 4 years

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Panoply of the stars

(A/N: Uriel feels blue and Astaroth cheers them up a little, makes veiled jabs at capitalism and racism and causes a blackout in all of NYC, just so they can watch the stars. Meanwhile Asmodeus gets unusually sentimental and nostalgic and Raphael tries to do damage control.)

Uriel had never liked being among people.

No matter how hard they tried, they could never help but be frustrated at how slow the minds of humans were in comparison to their own.

The Archangel didn't mean to be condescending and definitely didn't want to come across as a know-it-all. They loved sharing their knowledge and giving humans a bright idea or a little nudge towards the truth here and there. But trying to get down to a human level was just so hard!

The bits of wisdom and knowledge Uriel could feed humans with were microscopical and carefully considered. It was frustrating. However, the human mind was so limited and fragile, that showing them too much would damage them beyond repair, if the Archangel wasn't extremely careful (and Uriel had been reprimanded several times for accidentally driving humans mad).

It was just so tiring to interact with people (not just humans, people in general), that the Archangel just wanted to be left alone most of the time. So Uriel buried themselves in their study in their own Heavenly quarters most of the time, with writing, literature and art.

Every time they came to Earth, they usually tried to get their job done as quickly as possible

The Archangel of Healing would spend 90% of his time here, running his several pharmacies and helping people in need. Raphael was just too sweet and tender for this world, though that was just Uriel's humble opinion.

Then again, Uriel was also the Angel of Judgement, notorious for being as merciless as any demon – and they were judgemental. They were also the most radical and temperamental Archangel (even Gabriel had more chill and he had incinerated Sodom and Gomorrah without batting an eye).

Uriel felt like they didn't fit in.

Not that anyone other than the Almighty would understand.

Right now, it was night time and Uriel was sitting on the edge of the roof of a sky scraper, dangling their legs and enjoying the feeling of the chilly wind in their snow white hair.

They had come to visit Raphael in his surgery in the US, but found themselves unable to.

So they just leaned back and hoped that, if they looked hard enough, they would be able to spy a star.

No such luck.

Stupid fucking light pollution.

It made Uriel upset; they had always loved the stars.

To cheer themselves up a little, they began to hum “Twinkle, twinkle, little star”.

But as they came to the third verse, a quiet noise (which was definitely not the wind or the traffic below) made them tense up. Their face darkened; this low, voiceless laugh they would recognise anywhere.

As they turned around to glare at the newcomer, they found a tall woman with tan skin and black hair, smiling and waving hello.

“Did you have to sneak up on me like that?!”, Uriel hissed.

The woman just kept smiling.

Uriel glared harder. “Don't play coy with me, demon! You wanted to startle me into falling off the roof, so that I would have to spread my wings right above the buzzing road, if I didn't want to discorporate!”

The other person smirked and signed: “Guilty as charged. But won't you say hello? Really, you need to learn some manners. I am a Prince and an Archduchess, after all.”

“Go back to Hell!”, Uriel spat.

But when the other just wagged their finger, they gave in and huffed: “Fine. Good evening, Astaroth. What do you want?”

Astaroth changed her shape and a second later stood before Uriel as the blue-haired, pale-faced menace they knew so well. She tucked away her wings (safe for the head pair) and sat beside them.

“I was merely enjoying my vacation”, she signed.

The Archangel held back a snort; of course she was on vacation. The demonic Archduchess was the kind of demon, who would put a decent amount of effort into her work, but also milk every minute of free time she could get.

“That doesn't answer my question, though”, Uriel pointed out. “Again, what do you want from me? Do you have nothing to do? Like tempting people to sloth, making them doubt themselves or giving your summoners all the knowledge they could ever dream of, while robbing them of their place in Heaven, like the manipulative, vile seductress you are? Like in the old days, when you deluded humans into worshipping you as Inanna¹?”

Astaroth smiled lopsidedly and signed: “You flatter me. But I'm not Asmodeus.”

“Definitely”, the Archangel muttered. “At least that arsehole has a work ethic!”

Asmodeus was quite industrious and invested in zir temptation work, which was one of the things that made zir so dangerous. With the Prince of Lust, you could never catch a break; ze was brilliant, subtle and resourceful, but also extremely infuriating. It had taken Uriel almost three thousand years to figure out, how Raphael could stand being around zir for longer than five minutes.

“That aside, Ashtoreth”, Uriel continued, “I'm really in no mood to play your twisted mind games, so fuck off and leave me alone! You being an Archduchess of Hell doesn't give you the right to interrupt my moment of peace and quiet!”

“Watch your language, Archangel”, Astaroth signed with a frown. “It's unbecoming of a heavenly being to be so stroppy and you know it.”

The hoary Archangel just grunted in response.

They knew, that the demoness had a point: they swore way too much. Michael scolded them for it all the time. But they refused to give Astaroth the satisfaction of admitting that she was right.

“You're also quite patronising”, she kept signing, “You ought to treat your elders with more respect.”

“… Seriously?! Are we going there again? You think you being older than me automatically entitles you to my respect? Oh no, that's not how it works! If you want my respect, you have to earn it!”

The blue-haired Archdemon arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”, she mouthed. “That sounds suspiciously like those capitalist corporates, who keep drilling it into people's heads, that if they can't contribute anything to society, they're worthless and undeserving of basic respect and dignity. Then again, they also do the same to non-white people, no matter how hard they work.”

Uriel stared at the demon in utter horror.

Did she really perceive it like that?! They hadn't meant to- they weren't like- they didn't mean or even want to come across like that!

“What, no! You know that's not what I'm trying to say!”, they cried frantically, “What I mean is-”

She put a finger on their mouth and shushed them. “I get what you mean”, she responded, this time telepathically. “You're forgetting, that I know you.”

Yes, know them she did indeed – and Uriel hated her for it.

“How many times have we had this conversation now?”, she inquired. “56 098 times?”

“56 099”, Uriel corrected tiredly. “This one included.”

Suddenly the Archangel felt so exhausted, they wanted to just curl up on that roof and take a nap right then and there. But they weren't stupid enough to do that with Astaroth next to them.

The demon clicked her tongue to get their attention again.

“That aside”, she signed, “I simply chose to join you, because I saw you sitting here on the edge of the roof of a skyscraper, like you wanted to jump and discorporate yourself. I wanted to see what the matter is.”

The Archangel glared at her. “I did not want to discorporate myself by jumping off the roof! Not that it would matter, because my wings would open up reflexively before I hit the ground anyway.”

She tilted her head. “Have you tried it before?”

“Wh- no! Why would I-?” But when they saw her sceptical expression, they gave up. “Alright, fine. Yes, I have tried to kill my previous meat suits before. The last one was male and … and …”

“You couldn't stand having a gross meat roll and balls dangling between your thighs?”, Astaroth guessed.

Uriel bit their lip, but nodded.

Astaroth signed: “Sucks to have to deal with a body you don't want. But back to the matter at hand: why won't you tell me what has you so down in the dumps?”

She put on a winsome smile and Uriel looked away. They would not talk about their problems with her of all people. It was none of her business.

Gently the Archdemon cupped their pallid cheeks, forcing them to face her again.

Her smile said: Come on. Unburden your heart to me.

“You're the enemy”, the Archangel muttered. “Why would I tell you my problems? I have friends and siblings to talk to.”

Her smile became a tad amused: But you don't talk to them.

“I hate you”, Uriel grumbled.

The twin-sister of Lucifer just shrugged, like the smug bitch she was.

With a wave of her hand she encouraged them to speak.

“You wouldn't understand”, the Archangel tried to excuse themselves.

“Try me”, the fallen Evening Star challenged.

“You do not care about your siblings like I care about mine.”

Her black eyes flashed and they could tell she knew it was about Raphael.

There was no point in denying it.

“I know what happened”, the Princess of Hell signed. “Asmodeus told me.”

“Did ze now”, Uriel mumbled.

“Yes. I must admit, I didn't think the little healer had it in him. Pretty ballsy, opposing the Angel of Death, knowing that she could destroy him with just a swing of her scythe.”

Which made the fact, that Raphael had opposed Azrael even more insane.

He was lucky that she was the benevolent and patient Angel she was. Still, Uriel had never seen her so emotional, let alone upset. Ever.

The Angel of Knowledge groaned in despair and grabbed their head with both hands.

“Dammit, Raphael … why did you have to go and screw over Azrael of all Angels?!”

Astaroth clicked her tongue, making Uriel look up and glare at her.

“Now, now”, she signed, “You're talking as if he was fallen or dead. But Raphael is fine, isn't he? He has just been banished to Earth for a while. He has not been stripped of his powers, his immortality or even the Grace of God. On top of that, he spends most of his time on Earth anyway, doesn't he? So what difference does it make?”

Uriel just sighed. To them it made a huge difference.

“Is that what you came here for?”, the Archduchess inquired. “To visit Raphael?”

The Archangel wasn't sure, if the answer was yes or no, but they replied anyways. “Actually, I came here to do my job. I just wanted to give inspiration and little ideas to burned out college and university students. And then I thought … while I'm here, why not visit Raphael? At this hour he's working in the night pharmacy he has here, as you probably know.”

The blue-haired Princess of Hell nodded affirmatively.

“But … when I came near his pharmacy …” They didn't want to finish that sentence.

But they didn't have to, because as soon as their pale red eyes met with the black ones of Astaroth, she understood.

She gave them a pitying look and patted their left hand (Uriel felt their skin crawl at the demon's touch). And then all of the sudden – a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“What are you plotting?”, they queried with narrowed eyes.

Ashtaroth only smiled serenely, which made Uriel even more suspicious.

Then she snapped her finger … and all the lights in the city went out at once.

The only light sources were now the moon, the heavenly gleam emitting from the Archangel and the eerie red glow coming from the Princess of Hell.

In another part of the city, Archangel Raphael was trying to calm down his freaked out customers.

“Everybody settle down!”, he cried out. “It's just a blackout. There is no reason to panic!”

“Hold on!”, a female voice piped up, “I think I got this – wait a second!”

And a lamp in the pharmacy went back on.

The frightened people relaxed a little and went on to get their prescribed medication from Raphael (they always got it for free, no matter how expensive it was. The people had no idea how he could afford that, but they loved him for it. Little did they know that he was an Archangel in disguise, using too many miracles to get his hands on expensive meds, keep pharmaceutical giants off his back and pay his bills).

Through the commotion, Raphael turned to the person next to him and whispered: “What the heck is going on?!”

“Must have been a demonic miracle”, the other whispered back. “Certainly wasn't me, though.”

Raphael frowned, but went back to handing out the exact medication each of his customers needed.

Meanwhile the person limped over to the window to see, if the blackout affected the neighbourhood as well.

“Damn! Seems like the whole city has been affected – OH WOW! EVERYBODY, LOOK AT THE NIGHT SKY!”

The delighted outcry caused everyone to run out and see it for themselves.

There were oohs and aahs, like they had never seen a really dark sky before – and considering this was New York, they probably hadn't.

A small child in a wheelchair asked her parents: “Mommy, daddy! What are those things! Are they UFOs?”

“Holy shit! They are!”, an adult man cried.

But then someone started to cackle and everybody turned to a tall blonde woman with a walking cane.

“Silly man!”, Asmodeus snickered. “Those aren't UFOs! Those are the stars! And that white structure running across the sky, that's our galaxy, the Milky Way! Have you never seen a starry sky before?”

“… Nah”, the man admitted sheepishly. A few others admitted that neither had they.

The girl in the wheelchair tugged at Asmodeus' coat. “Ma'am, are you sure they're not aliens?”

Asmodeus nodded. “Absolutely. Now, don't look so disappointed!”, ze laughed at the child's pout. “Look at the stars! Don't you think they're pretty?”

The kid's pout morphed into a huge smile and she nodded enthusiastically.

Meanwhile Raphael had joined the crowd outside.

When he looked up, he too couldn't help but be in awe. It had been ages, since he had seen such a dark sky and it was just so …

“Raphael.”

The Archangel of Healing turned to his nemesis. To his shock, zir eyes were misty (of course it was too dark for the humans to notice, but he saw it nonetheless) and ze was visibly struggling to keep zir emotions in check.

“Look at the stars!”, ze whispered. “Look at them! When was the last time we saw a sky like this, you and I? I can see all of the constellations, big and small! I can see my constellation! I … I can see my star!”

When one thought about it, it was actually irrational to get so excited, as the Polaris, the star in question, was the brightest star of the constellation it belonged to (Ursa Minor) and one of the brightest in the night sky. And it didn't even belong to Asmodeus' constellation (Ursa Major)².

But that was a human's point of view.

The Prince of Lust – as a demon, who taught zir summoners astronomy, among other things – was wired differently. And so was Archangel Raphael.

He smiled: “Yes. They're spectacular. Just like you.”

Ze whirled around and stared at him in surprise. Then zir expression softened.

“Silly, little Archangel”, ze muttered.

But Raphael didn't fail to notice the faint blush on the Archdemon's face even in the darkness.

And the Archangel couldn't help but grin just a little.

Only a handful of people could get Asmodeus – the notorious Prince of Lust, King of Demons, spouse of Lilith, etc. – flustered and blushing like a teenager.

“Did … did you just cause a motherfucking blackout in the entire city of New York?!”, Uriel asked incredulously.

But ere they could do something to fix the chaos, Astaroth snickered.

“Don't worry”, she signed. “I made it so that hospitals aren't afflicted. After all, I wouldn't want Raphael the Demon-Slayer on my back, would I? But fear not, no one is going to die tonight. Well, apart from the mandatory crime victims that happen almost each and every other night.”

Uriel opened their mouth to protest, but she just put a finger onto their mouth and then pointed heavenwards.

Their eyes followed her hand in confusion, only to widen in surprise.

The blackout had neutralised the light pollution.

And there were the stars, decorating the sky and shining down onto the world in all their splendour. There was the Milky Way and Uriel could see the constellations they were responsible for.

“You wanted to see this, didn't you?”, Astaroth asked telepathically. “I saw the longing in your eyes, as you looked at the sky earlier. And …” she grinned, “… you were humming 'Twinkle, twinkle, little star' of all songs.”

“Shush”, Uriel grumbled, but couldn't really find it in their heart to be angry.

And judging by the coy smile on Astaroth's face, she was quite aware of it.

“Just lean back, look up to the stars and relax”, she signed. “Who cares about the chaos and the mass panic of those silly humans? Raphael can fix that for you.”

For once the Angel of Knowledge followed that advice, knowing that they could indeed count on the Healing Angel to handle this.

The two lay like that on the roof for a few hours, just enjoying the extremely rare view of a really dark and starry night sky over New York.

Then the Archduchess whistled lowly to catch the Archangel's attention.

Uriel gave her a questioning glance.

But the look they received in return made them sigh: an encouraging smile. And Uriel knew exactly what Astaroth wanted to encourage them to do.

Although, now that their mind was more at ease, they thought they could do it.

The hoary Archangel rose and the Archdemon followed.

“Can you come with me?”, Uriel asked. A childish request really, but just to be sure they would actually do it.

In response she took one of their hands and teleported both of them a few yards away from the pharmacy, where Raphael seemed to be seeing off a few customers.

Having brought the Archangel of Knowledge where they wanted to be, Astaroth gave them a slight nudge into the other Archangel's direction, before waving goodbye and teleporting herself elsewhere.

Uriel took a deep breath, told themselves to stop being a wuss and went over to say hello.

To Uriel's agitation (though not to their surprise), that smug arsehole Asmodeus was there too.

And sure enough, ze noticed them first: “Oh, Raphael! Look who has come to visit you!”

Raphael whirled around and his face lit up brighter than the sun.

“Uriel!”

At once the hoary Archangel was tackled by the small bespectacled brunet that was Archangel Raphael and he was beaming up at them.

“What a pleasant surprise!”, he exclaimed happily. “I didn't know you were in New York!”

Asmodeus cleared zir throat, reminding them that ze was there.

“I'm leaving you two to it”, ze told them. “I don't really appreciate being the third wheel, so I'll be on my merry way.”

Then ze addressed Uriel. “By the way, you don't happen to know, who caused the blackout?”

Uriel sighed: “Astaroth. She wanted to watch the stars with me. She also took me here.”

Asmodeus pouted: “Aww! Really, she could at least have said hello! Oh well. I suppose I'll have to thank her later, for this beautiful night sky.”

With a wink ze added: “Thank you for this night, Raphael! It was delightful! See you soon, my beloved nemesis! And I suppose you too, Uriel. Bye!” Then ze was gone.

Uriel scowled at the spot from which the Prince of Lust just had vanished.

“Fucking arsehole!”, they grumbled.

“I know”, Raphael chuckled. “But let's not dwell on that! Oh, it's so good to see you! It's so sweet of you to visit! I miss you all so much, you have no idea! You have to tell me everything! How have you been? How are our siblings? And the other Angels, are they okay?”

Uriel smiled: “Don't worry, everyone is fine.”

“Come inside with me!”, the smaller Archangel bubbled excitedly. “I will fix us both some coffee. I have to go back to London in a few hours, but until then we will have a lot to talk about!”

Then he pulled them inside.

---

1) Inanna: Mesopotamian goddess of love, sex, beauty, fertility, war, the planet Venus, justice and political power. Also known as Ishtar and eventually as Astarte/Ashtoreth, from whom Astaroth is derived. 2) In the Testament of Solomon, Asmodeus mentions to Solomon, that zir star (i.e. constellation) is the Big Dipper, which belongs to the constellation Ursa Major. My headcanon (and it's really just that, I swear) is that Asmodeus was formerly the Angel of the Polaris, among other things. The Polaris (which is currently the north star), however, is part of another constellation, the Ursa Minor.

#christian lore #Archangel Uriel #astaroth #Archangel Raphael #asmodeus #astaroth used to be ishtar #tw: depression #tw: gender dysphoria #i think #i'm not sure what gender dysphoria exactly is #the stars are beautiful #stargazing #uriel and astaroth are frenemies

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tepiddreamer · 4 years

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I don’t understand how you can support such a cruel company??? Definitely recommend watching blackfish or the cove, those animals are tortured for their whole lives for $$$&

Alright, since you are already dead set on your beliefs I won’t spend a great deal of time trying to dissuade you, but here it is:

I don’t hold SW on some pedestal and think they are the greatest thing ever. In fact I will be the first to bring them down and talk about some of the problems that the company has had over the years.

Yes, SW has done bad things. Animals have died. Trainers have been injured/killed.

Yes, SW has helped speed up and create operating standards for marine mammal captivity scenarios. They have been the blueprint for other marine parks all over the world.

Yes, the company has lost its main focus and is letting its animals languish in outdated facilities, and has held a deaf stand to its guests concern for said animals.

Yes, I have seen Blackfish/The Cove. I did my own research and I’m not convinced on these films. They are not documentaries. Especially after it came out that Cowperthwaite based the narrative on a script written by Zimmerman, and purposely staged herself in the ending scene of the charity walk for Dawn. The film itself took jaded ex-trainers and had them read off words and scenarios over footage of actual trainers. The film purposely used footage and dramatic scenes/dialogue to make the viewer feel uncomfortable, but had no idea that the footage has no association with what was being shown (ex: open mouthed Katina shown while discussing Kasatka/Takara separation and non-orca vocals are being played in the background). Ex-trainers talked about scenarios that occurred after they left the company or transferred out of Shamu Stadium. Another ex-trainer, who won’t be mentioned, wrote in his own book that he didn’t know what to say when he was being filmed and that Cowperthwaite gave him lines. He also took back certain things he said during the film/aftermath, stating he had lied just for the film. Such text has been removed from the reprints of his book. As tragic a the Taiji drive hunts are, and I am glad that they are now being publicly displayed and contested, Rick and Dolphin Project have continued to operate on unstable grounds, often jumping blindly into sea pen projects and claiming victory, or even releasing animals not rehabilitated from human care.

Just because you watched something on the internet or TV, doesn’t mean its 100% credible.

That being said, this does no forgive SW. Or how the company reacted to the film. Or Dawns death. Or the continued decline of its captive animals.

So, why do I go there?

A) Its a job. I have bills to pay. I have worked and been certified in large scale aquatic systems. Have I personally seen things that make me second guess things? Not really. Pipes rust, or PVC cracks, or acrylic will crack/bend and leak over time. All facilities go through this. How the facility responds to this is important, and SW has always repaired or replaced anything we have deemed necessary. I have never seen direct neglect or harsh punishment to their animals.

B) I have spent a great deal of time with these animals, not as a trainer but as a guest. Let me make this clear: these are not my whales. They are not my pets or animals I work with everyday. But I have seen them grow, have babies, learn new behaviors, and battle illness. I have grown attached to them. But at a respectful distance. I do not worship them, I do not act as a groupie or block other guests. I am happy to share my knowledge or answers questions with other guests in the park. But at the end of the day, they can’t come home with me. I can’t touch them or tell them its okay. I can only think of them and look back on photographs.

These are not my whales

C) As much as people like to point out the bad, there has been some good in the company. The rescue of 36,000 animals is no small feat, even if the majority of those animals are birds. You cannot hold the life of one animal over the other, every rescue is a significant return. SW is also the only facility in a given area that has the pool system and vet team needed to care for rescued animals. Something as simple as a cold stunned manatee, a boat struck dolphin, to a sea turtle full of plastic bags. SW has always been ready to accept these animals. In San Diego, changing seas and weather has lead to unusually high amount of seal rescues, mainly pups abandoned by their mothers. Other facilities have been overrun, and SW has stepped in to provide formula and boats for release. Along with their rescue efforts, their varied animal catalogue makes them favorable by other rescue agencies for permanent homes for animals that cannot be returned to the wild. NOAA has chosen SW parks several times for animals that need a home, a decision made against other facilities.

D) Despite outward failings within the company, I have seen a positive change in the management of the cetaceans. Making sure that EEDs, proper diet, exercise and mental stimulation, and access to pod mates, has been heavily restructured throughout the parks. Some is in response to the ending of waterworks, the breeding ban on orca, and movement of animals within the park systems (beluga/dolphins). People often forget that trainers are the true workers of the system, they work tirelessly to make sure the animals are healthy. While they have been removed, the addition of live fish and other sea creatures to the pools was a huge step in making changes to the orcas. This does not mean that things are perfect and that massive changes still need to occur. Batter the corporate figureheads, not the trainers.

E) Should the company fail, the ideal of the whales being retired to a sea pen sounds great. But it is a new concept, and not a true answer. The money needed to establish, maintain, and feed these animals is enormous. And will go on for many years. It is not a one time deal. The more realistic solution would be the company selling to highest bidders in China, and with no facility open in the US, a CITES permit would have to be written. A trained viable fertile female has a price tag of $10-20 million. If even one of the parks was to close, moving the animals to another park would be stressful. As much as it tries the patience of those concerned about the parks, building new coasters is a sure fire way to gain attendance numbers and rebuild the company stock. Had Covid not happened, a few more years of coasters and positive stock trend would have allowed the company the capital needed to upgrade its animals enclosures. Now the company is in limbo again. Also the board needs a reset. A HARD RESET.

I’m rambling. A thing I said I wasn’t going to do. But I’m not abandoning these animals. I realize that hundreds of people see and film these animals everyday. And they may post it online for others to see. But do they know who that animal is, or what he is doing, or if something is wrong? I visit these parks, outside of my job, to photograph and record what I can of these animals. So others can remember them. And learn about them. SW always talks about the connections you can make with these animals, and its true. I remember the first time I saw Shamu in Sandusky Ohio. I was young, but I stood stunned at this massive animal at the glass, that was looking right back at me. From that day I poured over every scrap of information I could find about them. I wanted to be a marine biologist. My life took a different direction, but I never forgot them. And when I finally got free time, I was right back at it. On boats taking notes, wiping sea spray off my cameras, listening to radios for sightings. I spent weeks on boats with no sight of what I had always wanted to see, a wild whale. I saw dolphins, humpback, grey, dozens of porpoises speeding by, even blue whales, but never that holy grail that was a orca. But I could see them at SW. I could look at them and they would look right back at me. That was the connection I had. And it is something I will never lose. I will always be looking for that wild whale. But I will always remember those that remain at SW.

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creative-frequency · 5 years

Text

Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM Ch. 03

Word count: 2945 Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Summary/Contains: First visit to Zeffo. Who am I kidding it’s just straight to lovers at this point. Let’s forget the friends first part. Mild angst, (partial) canon-rewrite. Notes: I struggled with the last scene, writing it over and over and editing it so many times but I think it finally (hopefully) conveys what I want now. Tagged some people either cause you asked for it or cause I thought you’d enjoy this. Lmk if you want to be tagged or not!

Previous Chapter

My Writing Masterlist

DEAR STAR SYSTEM // 03

“Ah, Zeffo. My favorite place,” Greez says dreamily and relaxes in his pilot’s chair.

The Mantis takes off from Bogano soil and you sit down, pretending to be focused on the map hovering on the holotable. Cal sits on the other side, equally preoccupied. You try not to look at him while knowing, feeling, that he’s definitely taking glances at you. BD-1 hops over to the holotable to have a better look at the planet you’re heading to.

Before you can think of anything to say to Cal, Greez has a story to tell.

“When this is all over, I think it’ll be a time to settle down, you know?” he continues, “Fall in love, start a family.” He sounds like Zeffo is exactly the planet he wants to spend his retirement days on.

You bite your lip and see how confused Cal is trying to make sense of the Latero. Greez is in one of those moods again.

“Love? You?” Cere voices out in bafflement.

“Yeah? You think a guy like me doesn’t know love?” Greez retorts slightly dejected.

“I bet you’re going to tell me,” Cere says, smiling.

You have to hide your grin behind your hand. Cere hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing about Greez’s adventures because she didn’t join you on that cantina trip on Tatooine. Cal gets up to lean to the cockpit doorway to hear better and even BD-1 turns around to listen and tilts his head.

Greez told you the story before after one too many and some bad situational judgment. There was someone he called the Baroness. You know it’s a fake name since she is still in politics. Wouldn’t have been much work in your previous occupation to dig out who the lady was, but you respect Greez’s privacy – despite your burning curiosity.

As Greez described it, they were deeply in love but eventually her career came between them, driving the lovers apart. Greez played it out as his wanderlust getting in the way but it wasn’t difficult to guess what the reason was really. You also suspect she played an important role in his decision to, if not quit, then at least gamble less. But those were thoughts you would take with you to the grave.

“Let me tell ya. It’s the best, but a lot of work. It needs admiration, devotion, attraction, and respect,” Greez explains with a straight face.

Cal turns to silently ask you is he being serious, but you shake your head fervently.

Cere is surprised by the pilot’s words. “Greez, that’s actually very insightful.”

“Yeah, well. It comes with experience. You can’t look this good and not steal a few hearts.” He must look impossibly complacent. Probably the same as when Cere complements his cooking.

“I bet,” Cere chuckles.

Cal turns to shoot another confused look at you, unsure whether to laugh or offer his sympathies to Greez. He points at the pilot with his thumb and mouths “what’s with him?” to you.

Deeming it best to just bite your lip harder, you tap the seat next to you. Hopefully the pilot will stop talking and focus on flying. It’s best if Greez doesn’t realize you’re pulling faces behind his back, or hear the Jedi questioning his mental well-being.

Cal smiles at your invitational gesture and an unexpected delight splashes inside you.

Before he sits down – closer than you anticipated – you scan him with an inconspicuous measuring look. He seems to be holding up alright considering all things. If stories about Greez’s love life are what get him to relax, so be it.

“Is he always so…” Cal starts quietly but can’t find the word he’s looking for. BD-1 tilts his head. Luckily Greez can’t see the droid on the sofa, again.

“Yes,” you still reply deftly.

You both chuckle as silently as humanely possible, shoulders shaking. You end up realizing you’re staring at Cal’s face, tracing the freckles with your eyes and how they move with his inaudible laughter. It’s the umpteenth time you catch yourself doing that and your quickened pulse gets harder to ignore.

Greez informs you to sit down because you’re about to make the jump to hyperspace. It throws you off enough to calm down. He seems to be done with talking about his love life, for now.

“Have you ever been to Zeffo before?” Cal asks.

You clear your throat to get rid of the last ripples of the tender sensation in your stomach. In the back of your mind you pin the feelings on the jump into hyperspace.

“I haven’t actually. Have you?”

“Nope.” Cal leans back and you follow his line of sight to the holomap of Zeffo.

The hologram of the planet is mostly covered in deep blue and dark green. The white-covered heaps signal snow-tipped mountains and while you’re definitely not a fan of snow, you haven’t seen it in a long time. Zeffo is apparently known for its strong winds and as testimony to that, several huge cloud vortexes cover the map. For once, you’re glad that you don’t have to fly.

“You must be always visiting new places,” Cal says and there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice. BD-1 makes a comforting boop. Cal has been stuck on Bracca for years – partly because of his own decision, but in terms of Imperial presence and living conditions, it wouldn’t have been his first choice.

“Sadly, not so much,” you sigh, “Turns out, that in order to listen to Imperial transmissions, one must stay relative close to the Imps…”

“That’s… understandable. I’m glad you found me. Solid timing,” Cal mumbles and casts his gaze down. The small droid nudges his side.

“I’m actually from Coruscant,” you blurt out to prevent the awkward mood. “Probably wasn’t born there but it was my home for a long time.”

“Oh?” Cal blinks surprised. “Do you have any family?”

“No, well, besides the one I left behind.” You shrug to signal it wasn’t a big deal. It isn’t anymore. Just the factual outcome of your choice to go with Cere.

Cal doesn’t ask anything more and you mentally reprimand yourself for opening your mouth in the first place.

After Greez’s majestic landing on Zeffo despite the strong winds, there is a short dialogue between the Mantis crew on how to proceed. Cere is concerned but knows that time is of the essence. Greez vows he won’t set a foot outside the ship. You sigh and hope that everything will go alright. The storms are interfering with the ship comms and while it’s worrying, there is no time to waste. The Empire might be at your heels without you knowing it.

Cal runs a hand impatiently through his hair. The faster he goes out there, the sooner you can leave. He cannot afford to wait for the comms to start working again.

“I’ll search for signs of Cordova in the meantime,” he says, already turned to leave.

Cere nods. “Good, I’ll be in touch once I crack this.”

Cal heads out into the wind. You pace after him to see the snowy scenery. It’s been a while since you were anywhere with so much winter. And there isn’t even much by the galaxy’s standards. It’s common knowledge that there are planets covered in ice and snow but so far you’ve managed to avoid them. You’re not so eager to get out there with Cal anymore.

“Cal?” you call out as he stays to look around too. You landed on a seemingly abandoned settlement in the eye of the storm.

“Yeah?” He turns to you with a curious look and BD-1 peeps from over his shoulder.

To shield yourself from the weather, you hug your cardigan and hide your hands between your arms and sides. The air is brisk and cold. Cal is wearing a woolen poncho over his clothes and you didn’t think anyone could look good in a poncho. Must be a Jedi thing.

“Be careful out there. You’ll be alone until Cere fixes the communications.” You glance at the lightsaber resting by his thigh and the brave small droid on his back.

“I will. You should head back inside.” He sees you shivering. BD-1 boops in agreement.

“Oh. I was just about to offer to go with you,” you jest and smirk.

Cal’s brows rise. “Really?”

“Mmmaybe some other time or planet. Somewhere warm,” you chuckle and stop your teeth from clattering. The wind bites all the way through to your skin. “I’ll go help Cere. Take care… Cal.”

“Fwoo woo!” BD-1 wishes you good luck.

Cal watches you until the ship doors close. The corners of his lips persistently stay turned upward.

“Beep-boo boooop.”

“W-what?” Cal yelps at the droid’s cheeky suggestion, “No, I don’t.”

“Beep-bo.”

“Okay, just a little. It’s nice to have a friendly face around.”

BD-1 titters and shakes. Cal scoffs. The wind feels colder with you gone inside so he would best get moving.

After the eye of the storm, you manage to find a moment of peace. Cal and Cere have agreed on the next step of the quest to rebuild the Jedi Order. Everyone is somewhat relaxed, bellies full and eyelids drooping. Greez sits on the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, talking with Cere in low voice about whether to land on a large meteor so you all can rest. You’re trying to repair an electrosword on the workstation in the back and Cal leans on the railing next to you, watching as you work with a constant confused frown on your features.

He doesn’t know how to bring up his proficiency in tinkering and fixing things. BD-1 boops and chirps on the table, dancing around the spare parts you’ve gathered. You wish you could understand his commentary better but you’re not exactly fluent in Binary.

“So where did you get that?” Cal asks and tries to not look too much or eagerly over your shoulder.

“Hm? I bought it in the Corellian Sector.” You pause. “On Nar Shaddaa.”

Cal cocks an eyebrow. He didn’t take you for the type to hang out in places like that. BD tilts his head.

You place the obstinately broken electrosword on the table and turn to look at Cal with a serious expression. “There’s a black market for lightsabers. Among other things. I… Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about that.” Your voice fades. How do you always end up saying the wrong thing with him?

Cal frowns lightly but his eyes stay on yours now that you’re facing him. “It’s okay,” he replies.

Cere sold the kyber crystal from her lightsaber on Nar Shaddaa. She asked you to act as the intermediary to avoid suspicion. The buyer, a delegate to some Hutt crime lord, apparently thought it hilarious to give you a broken electrosword into the bargain.

“Sorry,” you say again. That aching tender feeling is gaining foothold again and it’s getting annoying.

“Do you mind if I give that a try?” Cal nods towards the electrosword and straightens up from the railing.

“Be my guest.”

BD agrees heartily and from what you can understand, he thinks Cal is good at repairing things. You smile at the small droid and give room for Cal by the worktable.

The moment he touches the object, Cal visibly flinches. He squeezes his eyes closed as if under a migraine attack and his fingers spasm. Before you can properly realize something is wrong, the seizure stops and he lets the air out of his lungs in one heavy breath. Your heart is running rampant inside your ribcage.

You grab his arm to turn him towards you. He has gone pale.

“Cal? Cal? Are you okay?” you ask fervently, looking for signs of distress on his body.

Cal’s gaze swims before he can focus and bring a thin smile to his lips.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good. My bad,” he says and grimaces. You let go, slowly. He holds the electrosword up to inspect it better, acting perfectly normal again.

“Be-boop?” BD sounds concerned.

“I’m okay, BD. Really,” Cal assures the droid.

“What just happened?” you press, still a bit shaken.

Cal sees no point in hiding it. “I’m, well, psychometric. When I touch something, I may sense what’s happened to it.”

Your hands fly into the air and you stutter to find the words in a flush of anger, unable to believe that he would be so careless and reckless. “And you just touched an electrosword that’s been Force knows where,” you retort, not amused. You really want to give him an earful.

“Uh, yeah. Someone broke it on Nar Shaddaa.” Cal turns the electrosword around and finds a dent near the tip. “They didn’t last for long without it.” He talks in an even tone but the embarrassment shines through. His ears feel hot and he thinks you must consider him an idiot now.

You bite back the feral talking-to Cal is about to get and sigh. “That’s just horrible.”

Cal stays silent for a moment.

“At least I know you weren’t the one who broke it.” He smiles and you just stare the upward curve, baffled and blinking.

“Your boundless optimism is terrifying,” you assert and step closer to see better what he is doing to the electrosword. “Is there any hope to fixing it?”

Cal chuckles. “What did you just say about my boundless optimism? Yeah. I think so.”

You poke your elbow to his ribs and try to hold back a wavering grin. BD chirps at you.

Cal works with the electrosword as you watch from next to him, arms almost brushing together when he moves. Cal seems genuinely happy to be tinkering and you’ve completely forgotten your original intention of following the repairs to see how he does it. The new objective is to determine how often is too often to glance at his smiling face.

Cal finds it harder and harder to focus. You’re emitting warmth next to him and he is constantly overly conscious of every accident of your arms touching. The more he thinks about it, the more frequent the accidents get until you can stand it no longer and take half a step away. You’re trying to be discreet about it but you both notice the light step as well as if you had just jumped from the ship to avoid touching him.

In any case, it doesn’t help. The heavy mood only amplifies as it bounces back and forth between you and there has to be something you can say or do. Now.

“How does it work then? Can you touch any object and see its past?” you ask finally when your pulse has calmed down from the scare of Cal’s psychometry surprise seizure.

Cal has to collect his thoughts before answering. “Well, all things give off an emanation but that… concentration of the Force has to be strong enough for me to read.” He pauses and straightens up to look at you. “It’s… uhh, it’s hard to explain really.” It’s challenging to finish the thought since you’re still standing way too close and making him stutter in the process.

He looks unbelievably adorable and you throw all caution to the wind. He deserves to feel so abashed after the heart attack he gave you.

“So this…” You lightly take Cal’s free hand and press it against your chest between your collar bones. “Gives you nothing?”

His fingertips touch your neck, slightly calloused and unsure. Maybe even shaking. A rush of red rises to his cheeks and chills run down your spine.

“It doesn’t work on living beings,” Cal mumbles and looks away, utterly flustered.

A slightly snide, teasing smile rises to your lips. He seems so flummoxed. “I meant the necklace.”

His fingers curl around the small pearl and his brow furrows slightly. The touch is cool, careful in staying appropriate and almost makes you regret your impetuous flirting attempt. Your lousy shot at doing something to the heavy atmosphere, while getting back at him is backfiring. The fond and tender feeling just grows from the spot he brushed on your neck.

Cal closes his eyes and deftly ignores the warmth you radiate. He makes sure his fingers don’t touch your skin anymore. They’re tingling enough already. He focuses only on the Force.

Your necklace doesn’t spark any specific emotions. In truth, it feels somewhat indifferent to Cal in relation you. He sees it through a mirror, through your eyes and small wave of complacency, your emotion of complacency, fills him for a moment. It’s soothingly simple. He is relieved to notice how the borrowed feeling sways the flush on his cheeks and clears his head.

“It’s quite new. You bought it ‘cause you thought it was pretty,” Cal says softly. He lets go of the necklace and his hand drops. He backs away, taking purchase from the workstation.

You give him a crooked half-smile. “Makes me sound so vain,” you murmur.

He smiles back at you. “It is pretty–”

BD-1 decides to shower you with the blue scanning beam and you both swing around to look at the abrupt interruption, sternly reminded by the droid’s presence.

“Beeop! Beeop!” He chirps and jumps around the electrosword that still lies broken on the table – a kind notion to continue what you were supposed to do before the whole flirting charade began.

And not a moment later Cere appears on the doorway to ask are you two hungry. You can’t help but wonder did BD interrupt you on purpose while something strongly related to shame burns in your throat and makes it hard to face Cal’s gaze.

Next Chapter

Tagging: @sherniwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @sevansheart @owldearest @stellar-trinity @bd1babey @winchestergirl907 @thuutthuutbilly @rilakkyungsoo @lizbid33 @twistnet @fangirl-inthe-us @campmccarran @grandadmiral

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #jedi fallen order #swjfo #swjfo fanfiction #star wars #cere junda #greez dritus #bd-1 #my writings #dear star system

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thevirtualcanvas · 5 years

Text

You don’t really know someone until you go on a desert island together ~

Steven's birthday aka the time Connie lured Steven to Watermelon island because I don’t want Steven to be sad anymore.

Yesterday was a really angsty piece. Today we get to see how he gets his first kiss. Hope you’re all ready for some proper fluff.

“Cmon Steven! We're almost there!”

They were on Watermelon Island, he knew that much. The first thing that gave it away was, well, he was the one that warped them there. The second was the split mountain that hung over his head behind the now fixed warped pad. The third thing was the party of Watermelon-Stevens that welcomed them with a bubbly joy, dragging him by one hand as Connie took the other.

“Connie, where are we going? There's so much to be done before little homeschool opens. My itinerary is clogged,” he thought of the planner on his phone, full of meetings, and jobs and far too many things to do.

Her laughter was infectious, her bright eyes warmed Steven's cheeks. “Well, Mr. Itinerary, I cleared your calendar for the day. Little home-world will just have to do without you, for a couple of hours anyway.”

“Connieeee,” he whined, haphazardly. It was so nice to see her, between his work orchestrating repairs after Spinel, integration of the gems, and meetings with his space Aunts; and Connie's high workload from school and her Mom they saw each other in glimpses. Mostly through video chats and the occasional moonlit jaunt via Lion. So holding her hand, and being led through the crystal jungle of the watermelon island – he could think of worse days to spend his birthday.

The palm trees gave way, the grass turned to sand and a beautiful cacophony of blues decorated the horizon, Steven had forgotten how nice it was here, relaxing even. On the sand sat a banner – Happy 16th Birthday Steven in Connie's lovely cursive handwriting. Beneath that was a picnic basket, blanket, his ukulele, and her violin and another batch of Watermelon-Steven's completing the finishing touches. He wasn't going to cry. Probably.

Connie held her hand out-stretched. “Ta-dah! Happy Birthday, Steven! You didn't think I'd forget, did you?”

“Connie, this is...this is incredible, thank you.”

He walked, enraptured by his surprise. The Watermelon-Stevens scampered to give them some privacy and peace. Steven kicked off his sandals, wriggled his toes in the sand, plonked himself down on the blanket and picked up his ukulele. The instrument had been sat in a stand on the shelf for months. Since the events of Spinel and her injector, he'd lost his child-like wonder, concerned that another attack could happen any moment, Steven had focused more on growing-up; putting away anything that would deem him childish, expanding little home-world, dealing with actual home-world and the Diamonds. His passion, his music, that had taken an unfortunate back-seat. He plucked at the strings, the sound reverberating through his fingers and up the length of his spine. Steven shivered, he missed this.

He took a deep breath, the first one in a long time, he listened to the sound of the ocean, the rustle of the palms and relaxing sounds of Connie breathing next to him. She plucked her violin first, playing and humming along to a creation of their own design.

The sun is bright, our shirts are clean.

Connie smiled brightly at him, loose strands of her pinned back hair danced among the breeze.

We're sitting up above the sea

Was her voice always this beautiful? It sounded like silk in his ears.

Come on and share this jam with me.

She looked at him expectantly, nodding her head as she strummed and hummed the tune. Carefully, slowly, Steven strummed along. In the back of his mind, he was worried he forgot, or worse, didn't want to. But that worry melted away at her sweet harmony, and sweeter face. As the mismatch of ukulele and violin merged tunes, Steven hummed in time with Connie, pulling up the unforgettable lyrics from his mind.

Peach or plum or strawberry.

Any kind is fine you see.

Come on and share this jam with me.

They played together, the simple chord a testament to their friendship, their devotion to one another and the memories of a simpler time. Playing again with Connie, it was the best present he could have ever asked for. To be in her presence, to forget about his responsibilities for just a little while – sure, her laugh, rich eyes, brilliant smile, lithe dexterous hands, and lean figure, made Steven a tad nervous and weak at the knees but it was Connie, his Connie and that was perfect.

I'll do my best to give this jam the sweetness it deserves ~

He sung at her, waggling his eyebrows in time to the vibrato, causing her to laugh, scrunching her nose.

And I'll keep it fresh.

Jammin' on these tasty preserves!

She sung back with enthusiasm, the fine strings of her violin plucking hard at her rocking out.

Steven's heart was racing, he hadn't felt this happy in months. Not true joy, not like this. Connie picked up her bow and slowed the rhythm down, ready for the climax of the song. Waiting on his queue, she watched her best friend carefully.

Ingredients in harmony.

We mix together perfectly.

Come on and share this jam with me.

The tune faded naturally, petering out in the ambiance of the ocean. They both breathed heavily, the duet taking more out of them then it would have done nearly 3 years ago. Steven placed his ukulele down, content, and Connie followed suit, keeping her eyes firmly on him. She moved closer, so their knees and hips were touching as they looked out onto the ocean.

“Jam buds, back in action,” Connie laughed, nudging him in the side. “Not bad, Mr. Itinerary.”

Steven snorted and nudged her back, taking off his sports jacket and wrapping it around his waist before leaning back into her. “I thought you're supposed to be nice on my birthday.”

“I am being nice,” she responded with a giggle. “Besides, this isn't the only thing I've planned for you. We're gonna have dinner with my parents, your dad and the gems later. Peridot is 'constructing' the birthday cake, my present for you is at the beach house and – ” She hummed and cleared her throat. A dusky hue rose on her cheeks.

“And?” Steven asked, curious.

Connie twiddled her fingers, puffed her cheeks and risked a glance at him. Steven had grown so much since dismantling the Diamond Authority. He was taller, give it another few months and he'd be taller than her for the first time in their friendship. His shoulders were broader, the material of the band shirt he wore stretched over his shoulder blades. His arms and legs had elongated, but she loved the way they felt around her. Connie felt a smug satisfaction whenever he would sit behind her, legs outstretched, arms around her neck. He would rest his chin against her shoulder as they watched a movie marathon, or Connie would read her newest book aloud to him. Steven's jaw, while still soft and round showed signs of a beard under the surface, the slightest five o'clock shadow discoloured his lower face. He would scratch absently, as if not quite used to this newfound adulthood. And what could she say, she'd noticed. Her jam bud was growing-up, and so was she.

“And...I have one more surprise. If you want it.”

His eyes lit up. “A secret present, what is it?” Steven pursed his lips and shook with joy. “Where are you hiding it? Do the Watermelon-Steven's have it? Oh man, I love surprises!”

She chuckled at his enthusiasm, this would make the next part of her surprise so much easier. He made everything easier. “Good to know you're not too old for surprise presents. Steven, do you trust me?”

He creased his brow, what kind of question was that. “Of course I do, Con. You're my best friend.”

Not for much longer if she had anything to say about it. This was a turning point in Connie's life. She loved Steven. She'd tell anyone as much. But recently a lot of mature thoughts crossed her mind; and between the trips in the Dondai, visits to the beach house and increasingly more tense sleepovers, Connie realised something. She loved Steven. Which didn't change much overall; she would do anything for him, want to be in his life for the rest of hers and, jam on the beach whenever possible. But she also wanted to kiss that adorable face of his.

“Good, so face me, and close your eyes. Keep 'em closed too. No peaking.” He complied, swiveled around, knees crossed, hands-on lap, and eyes locked tight.

Connie leaned forward, taking a sallow breath. She reached out of him, fingertips connecting with his cheeks warm at her touch. She could feel his cheeks dimple as he smiled, turning his head into her fingers. Connie brought her face closer, seeing the pores on his skin, his long lashes, and his soft pink lips.

His eyelids trembled a bit, like he was trying to search for her behind them. Connie, what are you – ”

“Don't peak,” she whispered, wetting her lips, running her fingers down to his neck and feeling as Steven hitches and freezes.

“Connie...” His breath felt hot against her lips, and name danced across her skin.

“Happy birthday, Steven.”

Her lips met his, certain, lacking confidence but wanting. They trembled against one another, this was new, scary and exciting all at once. Steven's hands mirrored hers, buried into the hair at the base of her neck, terrified to explore and desperate to hold. He turned his head, pressing his face further into hers. Button nose pressing into her cheek, tight curls brushed against her brow.

Connie pulled back, flustered, gasping for breath, hands around his neck, playing with the curls at his hairline. She licked her lips, tasting him against them.

Steven opened his eyes and touched his lips, feeling where Connie had just kissed him. He was shocked, giddy and he really wanted to do it again. He pressed his forehead against hers, interlocked his fingers around her back and grinned. How long had he daydreamed about this moment?

“Connie?”

“Yeah, Steven?”

“That was definitely a surprise.”

She snorted, rubbing her forehead against his. “I'm glad.”

He bit his lip, deep brown eyes reflected into hers. “Can we do it again?”

Their stomachs grumbled in tandem, Connie opened the picnic basket and reached for the sandwich on the top of the pile and shoved it into his mouth. “Maybe, after our picnic, and away from prying eyes.” She motioned to the sheepish group of Watermelon-Steven's half-poking out of the brush behind them. Some gave a little wave, others blew a kiss of their own.

“R-right,” Steven said with a mouthful of jam and bread.

Connie waved back to them before taking a sandwich of her own. She shuffled back up to Steven, her Steven and they enjoyed their picnic in peace and quiet. The tension was gone, replaced by a fondly remembered quiet comfort between them. His hand around her waist, her knee against his thigh, watching as the crystals danced in the shallow waters and the sun changed colour in the sky.

“Thanks for dragging me away from gem stuff,” he said after a while.

“You're welcome, it is your birthday, y'know.”

“I know... Connie?”

She turned to him, mid-afternoon light bringing out the warmth in her skin. “Yeah, Steven?”

His hands found her, connecting perfectly. He should just say it, he'd thought about it a million times before.

“I love you,” it was barely above a whisper, and he couldn't look her in the eyes. But he said it. He'd told her. He was holding his breath and going pink in the face. Thankfully not that kind of pink.

He watched as her face turned the same shade of pink as him, she reassured him with a squeeze of his chunky fingers and gave him the exact answer he needed. “Love you too, Steven.”

Maybe he could keep celebrating his birthday after all?

#steven universe #suf #steven universe post movie #connverse #connie maheswaran #connie x steven #fanfic #first kiss #fluff

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thanks--for--listening · 4 years

Text

resurrection

ok i know i still have other fics to write but i got mad at those so here’s a little warrior nun fic instead. consider this my formal request for a better wig for lilith in season 2. (also on ao3.)

Lilith had never cared much about her hair. For as long as she could remember, it held no importance to her or the people around her. When she joined the OCS, when she began to cover it, she’d felt no sense of loss, no internal conflict. She’d hardly paid it any attention — what did she care whether others could see it or not? Hair didn’t matter, appearances didn’t matter. Not as much as strength, intelligence, coordination. Not as much as duty. Not as much as a legacy.

Now she couldn’t stop staring at the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her, but all she saw was a stranger. She didn’t know this girl, with her grey hair and her coward’s eyes. She didn’t know this body, with a mind of its own and a history it refused to share. The person she used to see had died in that warehouse, and it’s replacement was second-rate. Undeserving of taking her place. Damaged beyond repair.

“Hey, Cruella DeVil, you done admiring yourself yet? Or do the rest of us have to find another bathroom in this godforsaken place?” Mary’s voice broke her train of thought, and Lilith watched in the mirror as she walked up behind her. Something inside her twisted at the sight, at how every part of her appearance remained familiar. Despite everything that had happened, everything she’d lost, Mary hadn’t let it change her. She’d been strong enough to hold onto consistency.

“Don’t say that,” she heard Camila say, before seeing her head pop into the reflection behind her other shoulder. The hotel rooms they’d managed to hide in after the battle didn’t leave much room for privacy, it would seem. That, or her roommates simply didn’t comprehend the concept, or care enough to respect it. “I think it looks beautiful.”

“Oh, it’s definitely badass. There’s no doubt about that. I’m just saying, put on a fur coat, adjust the colors a little...”

“Her hair is prettier than that silly cartoon’s. And you know, I think grey is in right now.” She ran her fingers through it, and it took everything Lilith had not to flinch at the touch. “Lots of people would spend hours in a salon to try and get that color.”

“Yeah, you’re a real trendsetter now,” Mary laughed, and Lilith wanted to laugh with them, wanted to give a snarky response, wanted to do anything the old her would have, but she couldn’t. That woman was dead. And no miracle or Halo could ever bring her back.

She saw rather than felt Mary’s hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” she said, her voice soft and serious in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

Lilith didn’t know why she was asking until she shifted her gaze, saw the tears slowly making their way down her own cheeks. She couldn’t find it in herself to care enough to wipe them away. “I don’t know who that is,” she whispered.

“You don’t know who who is?” Camila asked hesitantly. “Do you...see someone?”

Lilith shook her head. Words had never been her preferred method of self expression, but she searched for an explanation nonetheless. “I look in the mirror and I see myself, but it’s not me. Not really.”

“It doesn’t matter what your hair looks like. You are the same Lilith you have always been.”

“You and I both know that’s not true, Mary,” she whispered. “Something happened to me. Something’s...wrong. And I don’t know what it is. How to fix it. Whether it can even be fixed.”

No one spoke for a moment. Between running away and desperately searching for a place to regroup, they hadn’t found the time to discuss her recent resurrection, or any of the complications that came with it. Part of her wondered if she’d even still be here if they had. There were only so many times she could apologize to Ava for trying to kill her, and if she couldn’t trust herself, how could she possibly expect the others to do the same?

“Maybe,” Camila said, “it’s not supposed to be fixed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you were supposed to be dead, but you’re not. Nobody’s ever come back the way you have. That has to be a good thing.”

“What part of this could possibly be considered good?” She snapped. “I don’t remember what happened to me. I keep losing moments, losing control. And when I do, I hurt people.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me when we were fighting Adriel.”

“That’s because you weren’t at the tomb. I attacked Ava. Fought against us. I almost ruined everything.”

Mary’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Did you?”

The memory of being restrained, held back, held together, echoed in her mind. “You know I did,” she said softly, shame creeping into her voice without her permission. “You were there.”

Mary shook her head. “No, I mean, we thought you were attacking us. But that’s because we thought Ava needed to get into the tomb. You were the only one who knew going in there was a bad idea. That it would put us all in danger.”

She tried to think back. She remembered fighting, but it was all blurry. Like she was watching herself from above. Like she wasn’t the one in control. The feeling hadn’t gone away until she’d felt Mary’s arms wrapped around her, her words an anchor bringing her back to the surface.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know how I knew. It was as if someone else was using my body — I was just along for the ride.”

“Was it like a voice in your head?”

“No. It was more like...a feeling. Like I was acting on instinct. Only, I don’t know whose instincts.”

“Well,” Mary said, “I don’t know about you, but the next time you get that feeling, I say we let it play out.”

“Yeah,” Camila said. “Everything we thought we knew was wrong. Maybe wherever you went is trying to help us. Maybe it sent you back because it knew we’d need you.”

“Need me? You can’t even trust me. I can’t even trust me.”

“Hey,” Mary grabbed her shoulders, turned her until they were face to face. “There is nothing you could do to make me not trust you. You are the most honorable person I know— I’d follow you anywhere.”

“I tried to pull the Halo out of Ava. And that was before the Tarask.”

“A brief lapse in judgement doesn’t erase what I know to be true. And that is that you will always try and do the right thing, even if it kills you. So if something hitched a ride with you on the way back from wherever that Tarask took you, maybe we oughta give it a chance.”

“You could be the key,” Camila said, and she couldn’t see her but she could hear the smile in her voice. “You could be what saves us all.”

“I just—“ she turned, stared at her reflection, waited for something to change. “I don’t see it.”

Camila gasped. “I know what you need!” She exclaimed, before turning around and running out the door.

Mary sighed. “I love that girl to death, but I’m one squeal away from sending her to Ava and Beatrice’s room.”

Her words almost dragged a smile onto her face, but the feeling didn’t last. “Mary,” she said quietly, “I know you want to believe that whatever happened to me is good.”

“We don’t know that it isn’t.”

Lilith just nodded. “If it isn’t, though, if...if I ever go too far, if I get too lost, I need you to promise me—“

“No, Lilith, I—“

“Promise me you’ll save them. Promise me you’ll stop me. No matter what it takes.”

Mary shook her head. “Find someone else to fulfil your death wish. I won’t do it.”

“I can’t ask anyone else. Camila’s too gentle to hurt a friend. Beatrice wouldn’t be able to live with herself afterwards. And Ava’s too important to have the others turn on her for doing what I told her. It has to be you, Mary.”

“What, and you think I’d be totally fine with killing you?”

“No, but--”

“How heartless do you think I am?”

The words hit her like a knife to the gut, the look she gave her twisting it until the pain was almost unbearable. Lilith forced herself to talk through it. “I’m not asking because I think you’re heartless. You’re the strongest person I know. I trust you more than I trust myself. I don’t want to ask you, but I also don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I need you to promise me you won’t let me.”

Mary hesitated. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

Lilith nodded, forced herself to keep eye contact, to pretend like she still had the courage she used to. “The others believe in divine intervention; you and I both know whatever happened to me is more likely the other way around.”

“We don’t know anything yet, Lilith.”

“Please, Mary,” she begged, and she knew the tears had come back but again she let them be. “If I hurt you, if I hurt any of them, I—“

“Hey,” Mary pulled her closer and she let her, rested her head on her shoulder. With anyone else she would have run, would have had to fight through the discomfort, but Mary had a way of making her feel safe in a way no one else did. “I trust you, 100 percent. And I promise I’ll make sure you don’t hurt anyone if you ever lose control. But I’m not killing you, Lilith.”

“Mary—“

“I won’t need to. I’ve always been the better fighter, anyway. Possessed or not, I’m coming out on top.”

She scoffed. Leave it to Mary to turn her heartfelt moment of vulnerability into a contest, although she had to work to fight back the smile that threatened to make an appearance in spite of the tears. “Maybe I should have asked Beatrice — at least she’d have a chance at beating me. If she got lucky.”

“Oh, it’s like that, huh? You take a trip to the other side and forget about the ass kicking I gave you on the pier?”

“One fight doesn’t outweigh years of victories.”

“Yeah, if that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, go ahead.” Mary laughed, and Lilith wondered what she’d done to get so lucky, to have someone like her stick around after everything she’d done. She wasn’t sure she could ever do enough to deserve her.

“Got it!” They turned to find Camila running back into the room, scissors raised above her head.

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“It’s Girl Code 101, Mary! When something bad happens, you cut your hair.”

“That’s for getting rejected by your crush, not getting stabbed by a—“

“It’ll still work! Trust me, all the magazines say that when you need to make a fresh start, you have to change your appearance. And since the Tarask did the dye job for us…” she opened and closed the scissors a few times, and Lilith wondered if maybe she should be nervous.

“Yeah, no. I’m getting Beatrice.”

“Get Ava, too!” She called after Mary as she walked out the door. “She’ll agree with me!”

The door shut behind her. Lilith felt her absence like a weight, heavy and hard and impossible to ignore. She’d known Mary the longest, had grown to find every part of her familiar, but Camila was still a bit of an unknown. The only significant time they’d spent alone together had been at the lab; now, Camila crept up next to her, put the scissors down and reached for her hair with no hesitation. Lilith didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, even when her mind begged her to run. Something kept her in place, something stronger than logic and habit. She couldn’t put a name to the feeling.

“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to,” Camila said as she collected all the stray strands of grey, “but I think maybe your problem is that you’re trying to look for the past in your reflection. You can try all you want, but the mirror can’t show you that. So maybe,” she folded her hair up so it looked like it hung just above her shoulders, “it’ll be easier to let go if you get to control what the present looks like instead.”

Lilith couldn’t look away. She knew it wasn’t real, not yet, but there was something about it that felt...better. She caught Camila’s eyes in the mirror. “How did you get so wise?”

Camila winked. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

They looked at each other, and Lilith thought maybe she’d underestimated her, had seen a smile and a shiny surface and failed to look deeper. She decided she wouldn’t make that mistake a second time.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Do it.”

She closed her eyes, felt Camila drop her hair down her back. She thought about everything that led her here. The life she’d had, the future she’d envisioned for herself. It felt so far away, so irrelevant in comparison to everything that had happened since she’d given her life for Ava’s. The Lilith who’d dreamed about that future didn’t exist anymore, but maybe that was okay. Maybe the one that replaced her would be better suited for the war that was sure to come. Maybe this, whatever it was, was her destiny after all.

She heard the cuts, heard the footsteps and gasps of the others right after. She kept her eyes shut for another second, tried to savor how light she suddenly felt, as if Camila had rid her of more than a few inches of hair. When she finally looked, she saw someone brand new. Someone free.

“It’s beautiful,” Beatrice said, and she watched the way Camila beamed at them through the mirror.

“I told you it would work!”

“What do you think, L?” Mary asked, and she didn’t look at the mirror, but stared straight at her. Lilith turned and stared right back, tried to communicate a million things she’d never have the words for.

“It’s nice.”

“It’ll be nicer once I clean up the edges,” Camila told her, and as they all began talking over one another, each making the case for why they should be the one to finish the transformation, Lilith let her eyes drift back toward the mirror. She watched the way they bickered, their words completely void of malice, their spirits somehow lifted despite the horrors they’d all seen. They let themselves find happiness in the quiet moments — maybe she could, too. She stopped trying to fight the smile, and found that letting it be felt more natural than stoicism ever had.

#warrior nun #i do be loving comments tho so if u wanna tell me what u think.....pls do #also im too indecisive about whether i ship anyone other than beatrice/ava or whether i just want them to be like sisters #which is why this is vague lol u could probably read a ship if u want idk #im just a sucker for some good found family #sister lilith #shotgun mary #sister camila #also new wig for lilith pls we need it #its so bad its just so so bad #but i love the idea of the grey hair #TFLAO3

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

drawing new lines, chapter one (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | (word count: 3756)

AN: Hello, new multichap! This one has been an extremely fun one to write so far, and I can’t wait to keep going. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Special thanks for Writ for being a wonderful beta, for listening to me throw ideas left write and centre and encouraging even the most headass of plots. Also shoutout to Barbie for coming up with Brooke’s career in this fic, aka wanting an architect Brooke. Title of the fic from Flying by Wrabel. Enjoy!

There’s no part of Vanessa’s day better than lunchtime.

The damn good lunch she’s packed if she’s meal prepped for the week. The myriad of cafeteria options if she hasn’t. The break from the politics and ridiculousness of working in the HR department. The top up of caffeine after her morning coffee begins to wear off.

But the best part of it all? Having forty five minutes to talk smack with Silky and A’keria, gossiping about their love lives and their coworkers and being noisy enough to annoy everyone else in the cafeteria.

Today, Vanessa’s the one partly responsible for inciting their shenanigans. She just can’t help it, not when Aquaria from marketing apparently has a new boyfriend and Vanessa knows for a fact that her new man ain’t gonna make her come as many times as Vanessa had when they were dating.

“I’m telling you, she ain’t never gonna have as good as when she had me.” Vanessa takes a sip of her coke as she watches Aquaria by the vending machine, arm in arm with her man.

“You don’t sound jealous at all, boo.” A’keria’s smile is all too knowing, and Vanessa has to stick her tongue out at her.

“I ain’t jealous.” She isn’t. “Aquaria was a total pillow princess in bed. You think I want that situation again? Nooo, thank you.”

Silky snickers. “We were almost convinced for a second there.”

“Please. I feel bad for her, if anything. She probably ain’t gonna get what she needs from him.” Vanessa tries to picture what the clean cut guy beside Aquaria does in bed. Somehow, with the side part and tucked in shirt and loafers, she finds that she can’t.

“And what is it that she needs? Your tongue? Your fingers?” A’keria wiggles her eyebrows. “Your strap?”

“Y’all hateful.” Vanessa scowls as Silky starts smacking the table from laughing so hard.

“All I’m saying is that Aquaria can do better. Though honestly, so can I. And she wasn’t even my last girlfriend. I can get me the ladies.” Vanessa scoffs as she says it. She totally can. She’s a ladykiller.

She is.

Ish.

“Is that so, Vanj? Tell us, who are the last few girls you got?” A’keria cocks her head, wiggles in her seat like she’s excited for Vanessa’s answer.

Hmph.

“Well. There was Aquaria, obviously. Who was all over me when we were dating. There was Kameron. Ariel. There was Scarlet for a short time, too.”

Silky wrinkles her nose. “Y’know, I always forget you dated Scarlet. That concept’s fucking weird.”

“It was fucking weird. That’s why we broke up so fast.” Vanessa shudders. “All I’m saying, though, is that I can get me a lady. I’m a catch, I really am. Hey, stop laughing!”

A’keria and Silky are too busy guffawing to hear her, and Vanessa can’t take this attack on her reputation, she really can’t. She’s got game, and she knows she can prove it.

“Fine. Name a lady. Any lady that works here, even if she straight. I bet I can get her to go out with me.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “It’s the Vanjie charm.”

“Ooh bitch, you’re asking for it. This gonna be good. We gotta think.” Silky drums her fingers on the table, leans back in her chair as A’keria takes a sip of her drink.

Vanessa takes a bite of her sandwich, tries not to be bothered as Silky and A’keria let out hmmms and I wonders. That is, until Silky slams her fist on the table.

“Brooke Lynn motherfucking Hytes.”

“What-”

“Not her-”

“I said what I said.” Silky gestures to Brooke, one of the firm’s top architecture project managers, currently waiting in line for her coffee across the cafeteria.

A specimen so fine that even Vanessa feels a tingle running down her spine. Or maybe that’s because she needs to pee.

Regardless.

“You land her? I’ll buy your lunch for a month.” Silky leans back in her seat, crosses her arms.

“Shit, really?” Vanessa raises an eyebrow at her. “An entire month?”

“You’re acting like you have a chance of success in the first place.” Silky looks a little too amused for Vanessa’s liking, and she feels herself bristle just a bit.

“I sure as hell do.” Sure, maybe Vanessa’s talking out of her ass, but she’s not gonna show it. Not to Silky and A’keria who are regarding her with smug smiles.

So what if Brooke, in her six inch stilettos and pencil skirt that hugs her ass perfectly, is sure as fuck out of Vanessa’s league? So what if Brooke’s known for turning down men and women alike that try to ask her out without so much as a second glance?

Brooke doesn’t wear a ring, which means that she’s fair game. And Vanessa’s going to make it happen.

“Just you wait. Imma make Miss Hytes fall head over heels for me, fuckers.”

Sure, the drama of Vanessa’s statement is slightly ruined by Silky letting out a snort, but the effect is strong enough.

Vanessa’s not going to have to meal prep for an entire month, if she can play her cards just right.

Brooke Lynn Hytes is a creature of habit.

Waking up, then going on a thirty minute run. Breakfast of kale and egg whites. Reaching work ten minutes early. Touching base with all the leads on her current project, making sure that it’s going smoothly. Getting the work done that she needs to before lunch rolls around, a lunch that she spends on her phone catching up with even more work emails. Working until precisely 4:30 pm, when she can roll out the door in time to make her spin class at 5:15 up in midtown.

There isn’t much that disrupts the routine if she has anything to say about it. That is, until she’s packing up at 4:32 and slipping her coat on and a woman knocks on her office door, entering before she can say anything.

“Hytes, right?” The woman flashes her a smile bright enough to knock out the power in the city, and Brooke’s attention is definitely captured away from her things on her desk.

The woman looks familiar. HR, maybe? Maybe the one who’d come around after John had said lewd things to Brooke’s secretary. Though Brooke’s not sure. “And you are…?”

“Oh! Right.” The woman pauses, sticking out a hand. “Vanessa.”

Brooke shakes the woman’s hand, noting that her grip is firm, something she always likes. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m here on…non work related business.” Vanessa’s smile is sheepish, and Brooke pauses, waiting for her to continue, because she has no idea what the business could possibly be.

“So, here’s the thing. I have a bet to win that involves no meal prep for me for an entire month.” Vanessa drums her fingers on Brooke’s desk, almost nervously.

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with me?”

She’s never really interacted with Vanessa before, so she’s not sure how-

“The bet involves you, too.” Vanessa’s fidgety now, and it almost makes Brooke want to laugh, how nervous she is. “Two coworkers bet that I couldn’t get you to go out with me.”

Really?

Brooke snorts, because really, she should have expected it. “Did they, now?”

“Listen, I know it sounds wack-”

“No thanks.” Brooke goes back to packing up her things, tucking confidential files into the drawers of her desk, pulling her coat over her shoulders. “Don’t think I can help you out with that.”

Vanessa, for her part, remains unperturbed. “There’s perks. You can split the free food with me.”

Brooke snorts. “While that’s a very generous offer, I’m still going to have to say no.”

“Aw, why not?” Vanessa comes around the side of her desk, and Brooke gets a good look at her. She’s looking up at Brooke with a defiant expression in her eyes, one that doesn’t want to take no for an answer, and Brooke almost respects it.

But she also has a spin class to get to, which means that ‘almost’ isn’t really enough to make her want to be late.

“Okay, look.” Vanessa continues when Brooke doesn’t answer, instead focused on zipping up her coat. “This ain’t all just for my benefit. It could help you too.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” Brooke lets her keep talking for the sole fact that she wants to see where Vanessa’s reasoning will go. Vanessa’s incredibly entertaining, as much as Brooke doesn’t want to admit it.

“Ain’t there lots of people who try and snatch you up? You’re like The Bachelorette of this office building.”

Brooke has to hold back a laugh. “There are people that have tried to ask me out, yes. But I wouldn’t necessarily call myself that.”

“Chris Harrison must be lurking around here somewhere to host a season for you.” Vanessa’s grinning, and Brooke can’t help but notice how cute it is. “I’d wanna be on that season.”

“Would you now?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point. The point is, you got lotsa people bothering you, right? This way you can pretend to date me and just say you’re taken.” Vanessa’s looking at her like she’s just solved the world’s biggest math problem.

“I don’t know if that would necessarily work. We’d have to convince people that we were actually together, first of all.”

Vanessa waves a hand. “It ain’t gonna take Oscar-worthy acting to fool these buffoons. We could do it. Plus, ain’t you got people who bother you about finding someone? Friends and shit?”

Brooke thinks back to her last get together with Nina, when they’d gotten drinks and Nina kept waving her engagement ring around like it was a prized possession, like having a ring on her finger had magically solved all of her problems. Which it hadn’t, obviously, because despite the engagement ring Nina still has to deal with her car transmission needing repairs and her boyfriend (fiancé) coming home from work too late. So what’s the point, really?

Though it never stops Nina and Courtney and Steve from trying to set Brooke up with their friends (‘wanna go out with her, she kissed me in college which means she’s definitely still a lesbian, right?’), from them lamenting on and on that Brooke will eventually find the right person, she will, despite the fact that Brooke doesn’t really care.

Or want to find anyone, really.

Brooke’s got her job and her vibrator. The only two things she needs in life, really, for fulfillment.

But Vanessa’s still standing there in her too tall heels that don’t do much to increase her height, really, an expectant look on her face as she waits for Brooke’s answer, Brooke can tell that Vanessa’s already gotten her figured out.

“Maybe.”

“This can get them off your back. All we gotta do is show up at some social engagements and work events and shit and, bam. Fake couple. We both get a payout.” Vanessa grins, really grins, rubbing her hands together like a scheming cartoon villain, and Brooke can’t help how entertaining she finds her.

“You’re still offering half of your free lunches?” Brooke holds back a snort.

“We can cross that bridge when we get to it.” Vanessa waves a hand, before reaching across Brooke’s desk to grab the stack of post-it notes that sits next to her coffee mug.

Vanessa scrawls ten digits in messy handwriting, sliding them across the desk towards Brooke. “In the meantime? Think about it. Get back to me. You can be part of the greatest finesse ever pulled at this godforsaken office. All you gotta do is say yes.”

With that, Vanessa turns on her heel and leaves, but not before shooting a wink in Brooke’s direction. Brooke finds herself stuck in place for longer than she wants to admit, replaying the sway in Vanessa’s hips as she lets the door close behind her.

She snaps out of it when she looks down at the numbers scrawled on the post-it note, followed by a short, almost indecipherable message in messy handwriting.

U know how to reach me. Xoxoxo, V.

The text comes through a couple of days later when Vanessa’s going over some policy that her supervisor wants to review again for the millionth time, and she nearly drops her phone in excitement when the unknown number pops up, because finally.

Fine. We can try to do this.

“Yesssss!” Vanessa can’t help the little fist pump that escapes her, because Brooke’s agreed and she gets free food but most importantly, the chance to rub it in the faces of Silky and A’keria.

Vanessa saves the number as quick as she can before replying.

VVM: knew u would see the light sooner or later.

BLH: awful presumptuous.

VVM: it’s just smart business!

BLH: how is any of this a business deal?

VVM: I dunno but I sure as hell am feeling as smug as the suits in our office building.

BLH: regardless, we gotta lay down some ground rules. For this to even work.

VVM: I’m snoozing already

VVM: let’s do this over lunch

BLH: are you food motivated for everything in your life?

VVM: maybe

VVM: Benny’s at 12:30?

BLH: unbelievable

BLH: see you then

Benny’s Sandwich Shop is a hole in the wall across the street from their office building that, in Vanessa’s eyes, has the best damn paninis in the city. She rubs her hands together in excitement before digging into her veggie grilled sandwich, wanting to make it last as long as possible.

Brooke’s sitting across the table, and looking at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. “That excited for your sandwich?”

Vanessa scoffs at the sad looking bowl in front of Brooke. “Better than coming to a sandwich shop and ordering a damn salad. What are you, a rabbit?”

“A rabbit who knows what she likes.” Brooke raises her fork towards Vanessa before taking a bite. “So. Rules.”

“Right, rules.” Vanessa rummages in her bag before pulling out a notebook and pen. She’s not going to be unprepared, not when she can get free lunch from A’keria out of it. “Number one, no dating anyone else while we faking it. Obviously.”

“You’re acting as if that’s a rule I would break.” Brooke has a smile playing on her lips and Vanessa scoffs.

“Just being thorough. I won’t either, so.”

“Or I’d be so heartbroken if you did.”

Vanessa sticks her tongue out at Brooke, who seems to be enjoying their situation way too much. “Not even an hour into fake dating and you already pulling on my pigtails.”

“Sorry.” Brooke winks and Vanessa’s breath absolutely does not hitch in her throat at the sight, no ma’am. “Rule two?”

“We gotta show up at some events together. To sell it and all that, otherwise A’keria ain’t gonna buy it.” Vanessa can already see A’keria’s piercing gaze, can already hear the soft mmmhm that she always lets out whenever she gets suspicious.

“Doable.” Brooke writes it down in the notebook. “Events like what?”

“Like some group dinners or evenings out, or holiday or New Years parties coming up, shit like that. To make it look like we cuffed for the season.” Vanessa pictures going to holiday parties with Brooke hanging off of her arm, maybe in a tight dress that hugs her-

She needs to focus.

“Okay. Rule three?” Brooke’s pen is poised to write and Vanessa kinda likes it, how in sync they are already.

Vanessa almost doesn’t want to bring up the next one, but since it’ll be a big component of faking a relationship, she grits her teeth and leans forward on the table to ask the question. “PDA. Thoughts?”

Brooke wrinkles her nose. “Not too big on overdoing it, but I can take some pecks here and there. Holding hands, being arm in arm.”

Vanessa nearly awws, because Brooke’s description is akin to the time in seventh grade when she’d ‘dated’ a boy in her class for three weeks before he broke up with her by the baseball diamond.

Not her finest moment, dating wise.

“I can do that.” The more she thinks about it, the more Vanessa is open to the idea. Participating in all of the innocent, early parts of a relationship, the ones viewed by everyone.

A small part of Vanessa wonders how Brooke’s hand will fit in hers, if it’ll be warm or cold. If she’ll fit against Brooke’s side like she belongs there. She’s excited to find out.

Brooke leans forward in her seat. “Not a rule but - how are we going to tell people we started seeing each other? What will the story be?”

Vanessa pauses and thinks, really thinks. She wants it to be elaborate but not so elaborate that it’s unbelievable, but just enough detail to convince others that their story is authentic.

“Easy. We ran into each other in the hall and you spilled coffee on my shirt and helped me clean it up in the bathroom, and the rest is history.” Vanessa’s proud of her imagination, really, until Brooke snorts.

“So we started dating because you took your shirt off?”

Vanessa huffs. “Got any better ideas?”

“Sticking with the coffee theme, here’s one. We started talking in the line for Starbucks and coincidentally ordered the same drink, then sat and talked about it, before talking about other things. Then you left your number on my cup before you left.” Brooke looks entirely too pleased with herself, the smile lighting her features as she takes a bite of her salad.

Vanessa’s not sold, though. “Why am I the one who writes the number?”

“Why, never had the balls to leave a lady your number before?”

“Hey.” Vanessa swats at Brooke’s arm, ignores the way she’s snickering. She knows that Brooke’s trying to bait her, she is, that somehow she’s already figured out the way that Vanessa ticks.

Doesn’t mean she’s going to try something different this time, though.

“Fine. I write the number. Let’s go with yours.” Vanessa lets out a huff before grabbing the pen from Brooke’s hand, writing their origin story on a corner of the page.

But they need to get back to the task at hand, something that Vanessa realizes when she puts the lid back on her pen. She uncaps it once more. “Rule number four. Social media. We gotta add each other on Instagram and post with each other here and there.”

“All I post on Instagram are my two cats.” Brooke’s smile is sheepish and Vanessa can’t help but let out a snort.

“Shit, you sure you ain’t a crazy cat lady?” Vanessa winks at her before reaching out, grabbing her hand, something that feels more right than it should. “We’ll sprinkle in some actual humans in between the cats.”

Brooke squeezes her hand back, something that doesn’t escape her notice. “Fine. Gimme your phone so I can add myself.”

Vanessa files a note to herself to stalk through Brooke’s instagram later after Brooke accepts her follow request, to look past the cats and for some more information about her, maybe about her past exes-

Nah. Just to be thorough, make sure she knows just enough.

Brooke holds up her own phone, the screen on a boomerang of Vanessa on holiday with Silky, facing away from the camera and pulling her bikini bottoms down for just a second. “Seems like your vacations are fun.”

“Bitch-hey. ” Vanessa tries to reach for Brooke’s phone but Brooke’s arms are longer, easily holding the phone out of Vanessa’s way.

“I feel like I’m going to have a great time scrolling through your instagram, I really do.” Brooke’s looking smug, too smug, and Vanessa huffs.

“Don’t think I won’t find your weird ass posts, too.”

Brooke’s eyes are sparkling. “I know you will. Though I’m not as defensive as you are.“

“Okay, last rule.” Vanessa shoves the notebook in between them, intent on distracting Brooke from her nightmare of an Instagram account. “Five seems like a good place to end. Any ideas?”

“I got one.” Brooke leans forward in her seat slightly. “Promise not to fall in love with me by the end of this.”

Vanessa lets out a laugh, an actual laugh, because Brooke is awful presumptuous. “I’m only in this for free food and bragging rights against A’keria. That won’t be a problem at all, don’t you worry your little blonde head.” She pauses, looking back over at Brooke, who still has a shit eating grin on her face. “And you can’t fall in love with me, either. I know I’m irresistible and all that, but-”

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Please. I’m just doing this to get my friends off my back. You’ll be just fine.”

Vanessa wonders what it’ll be like meeting Brooke’s friends. What they’re like, what they’ll think of her. Not that it matters, really, since it’s all gonna be fake. But still.

“I think that about covers it all.” Vanessa looks at their list, pleased with how it’s all beginning to come together. “We’ll be able to fool these hoes, easy.”

“You think so?” Brooke trails her pen over the list, as if she’s trying to find something that they’ve missed.

“I know so. And hey, if we wanna add or take something out, we can always change it. This list open to edits.”

Brooke looks satisfied. “Good. And like any good paper contract, we have to sign on the dotted line.”

Her signature on the bottom of the page is fancy, all loops and flourishes and Vanessa can’t help but scoff. “What kinda extra-ass signature is that?”

“A nice one. Yours is boring.” Brooke points to Vanessa’s, smaller and definitely one with less loops and Vanessa crosses her arms.

“You’re boring.”

“Ooh, great comeback.” Brooke’s smiling, though, and it keeps Vanessa from wanting to reach over the table and shove her. “So, are we good to go?”

Vanessa sticks out a hand and Brooke shakes it with a firm grip. “That we are, blondie. Time to pull the greatest trick that our office ever did see.”

Rules:

No dating anyone else.

Show up at events together.

Light PDA only.

Interact on social media like a couple.

No falling in love.

Instagram story posted by @vanessavanjie. Location: @bennysdiner. Tagged: @bhytes. Description: A boomerang of Brooke Lynn Hytes sitting at a table, munching on what appears to be a salad. A gif of a rabbit eating a carrot is in the bottom left corner.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #drawing new lines #holtzmanns

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

Such A Boring Day...(And It’s Mine)

Written for my DL server Bingo Card prompt: Great Depression.

Now, I know it meant the time period, but that wasn’t happening no matter how much I pressed myself to make a fic out of it, and according to Merriam-Webster, depression can mean everything from being depressed mentally; to a reduction in activity such as with economics, physical activity, etc; a tropical depression re: meteorology; and more.

So I decided to go with the definition of it as a reduction in activity. Particularly, a slow day on tour, a day where everyone is in a rather rough mood because...there’s just nothing to do. They can’t leave yet for the next city, but there isn’t enough time to go do anything in the city they’re already in, and the hotel has gone from ‘ooh fun new place’ to ‘I think this is the most boring hotel in existence.’ And it’s up to the gender neutral reader in this fic, as a member of the road crew, to help keep everyone else happy and entertained, while also trying not to die of boredom themselves.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“You have a cup of tea,” you said gently.

“S’cold,” Roger mumbled.

“Did you forget about it?” you asked sympathetically.

“No,” he sighed, sounding utterly despondent. “Just let it sit there, I guess.”

You frowned, and picked up the cup. “Let’s try that again, hm? Give you a chance to drink it this time.”

“I could make it myself,” Roger said, but he didn’t move from the bed he was stretched on.

He was rooming with John, who had found perhaps the best way to beat the boredom of waiting until they could get on the road, and was passed out on the other bed, on his third nap of the day. He’d woken up only for the bathroom and to eat a sandwich you’d brought up for him.

“Would you like to do that, or shall I continue?” you asked Roger.

He sighed deeply, and rolled over onto his stomach.

That was an answer enough for you to finish up the new cup, setting it on the end table near his bed before leaving to check on everyone else.

Normally, there wasn’t downtime like this, but a combination of venue issues, transportation issues (the van was very dead, and at the local mechanics), and the discovery that someone had written out the wrong time table for the next day meant you had three hours.

Not enough time to do much exploring of the city, not in the way the lads wanted to, but just a bit too early to get on the road (if you wanted to avoid arriving at the next hotel way ahead of check in time.)

And it was killing everyone.

In the next room, Freddie and Brian were sat on one of the beds in their room, frowning over a game of Scrabble.

Not a single new word had been added to it since you’d checked on them a half hour earlier though.

“Bad tiles?” you mused.

Brian shrugged. “No. It isn’t doing the trick. We only pulled it out because we couldn’t think of much else to do.”

“Could read, maybe?” you suggested, taking a quick peek around the room to ensure they were fully packed up and ready. They were, which meant you couldn’t use that as a suggestion to alleviate their boredom.

“No,” Freddie sighed, and slumped against the pillows.

“I made Roger some tea,” you tried again. “I could get you two something, if you’d like anything? Food, drink...”

They both shook their heads and sighed in unison.

“Poor things,” you said softly.

“You aren’t just as bored?” Brian asked.

“Why do you think I’m running around trying to help everyone?” you asked as a reply. “I don’t know what else to do with myself, and I feel...useless. A bunch of energy and nothing to do with it.”

“All dressed up, and nowhere to go,” Freddie muttered.

You nodded. “I’ll be back in a bit, I guess, to check on you. If it helps, we’ve got only-”

You checked your watch.

“Two hours left!”

They sighed deeply, in unison, again, and you left them to their unending but unmoving Scrabble.

In the room next door, most of the road crew had gathered. In part because the other rooms had all been packed up already, so there was little point in laying about in them, but also because they were as bored as the band, and the idea had been that maybe being bored together would be more fun than being bored alone.

“Look who’s back!” Crystal crowed. “How was that rotation round? Do anything interesting?”

“Made Roger another cup of tea, John is still sleeping, and Brian and Freddie may be beyond any suggestions I can provide,” you grumbled. “And it only killed off an hour.”

“What now then?” Crystal asked you.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I need to find something for all of us.”

“You don’t have to,” one of the other techs said. “But it’s kind of you to try.”

“Someone has to,” you said. “We’re just wasting away in here, and it’s the worst, and I don’t like it.”

Crystal checked his watch. “Well, your complaining knocked off another two minutes.”

You laughed and dropped onto the bed near him. “Should I continue, see if I can kill another hour with complaining alone?”

Before he could reply, in stalked Roger, dragging a half-asleep John with him. “We thought maybe you lot would be doing something exciting.”

You all looked around the room at each other, all sat on the floor or beds or perched wherever else there was a spot, doing nothing except sitting and talking.

“Oh well,” Roger mumbled. “We’ll stay anyway.”

He plopped himself down in your lap, and you watched as John settled onto the floor, impossibly yawning.

“How on earth are you still tired?” you had to ask. “You woke up today only to spend all of it sleeping!”

John shrugged. “I think I’ve circled back around now. I’ve slept so much today that I made myself tired, so now I actually do need to nap.”

“Not a bad idea,” Crystal said.

“What, napping?” you giggled. “Just a big pile of us in here, passed out?”

He nodded.

“Shall I go get Freddie and Brian to join us?” Roger suggested.

“You would have to get off of my lap to do that,” you teased.

“I am quite comfortable,” Roger mused. “Crystal-”

“I’m going, hush,” Crystal interrupted, dragging himself off of the bed and out into the hall. A few minutes later, he returned with Freddie and Brian in tow.

“I don’t know that I’ll actually be able to fall asleep,” Brian admitted as he settled onto a spare section of floor. “But I’m willing to try. I can’t take anymore of just...sitting.”

Freddie nodded as he dropped down near John. “Nothing better to do.”

There was a bit of a delay as everyone tried to get comfortable, to make room for each other (including Roger, who in all fairness, was owed using you as a mattress, as you had passed out in the van on his shoulder not but a few days prior.)

---

The knock at the door that woke you was a panicked and loud one. There was no way to shove Roger off of you without waking him, but before you could, Freddie stumbled to his feet and answered it.

Just as quickly, he slammed it shut and started to shake everyone awake.

“How late are we?” you asked as he made his way to you.

He only winced, and gestured for you to hurry.

Sure enough, outside was the repaired van, that according to the hotel staff, had been waiting for all of you for the last three hours.

“So,” you sighed after everyone was loaded up and safely sat down as the van took off. “We can take a formal poll now: what’s worse? Bored and waiting, or sleeping and late?”

There was silence as everyone, a good few still half-asleep, thought.

John finally emerged with the definitive answer, followed by nods from everyone: “Both.”

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic

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peace-coast-island · 4 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Having a whale of a great time!

Scuba diving in the Crystal Blue Lagoon? Check. Collecting pearl oysters and whatever else lies at Sea Glass Shores. Check. Crafting a bunch of cool floaties and braving the Shimmering Whirlpool? Check and check. Riding whales towards the sunset? Check!

Vacationing at the Sparkle Islands has been exactly what I needed! It's nice meeting up with Lenie again as well as Nico and Dewey. The Fairweathers have been taking a break from recording and performing so they've been focusing on adventuring and solo endeavors.

I can't believe that Lenie's a college senior now - where did the time go? Jimmy's busy with family stuff so that's why he's not with us. It feels like forever since I last saw him - but that's what video chats are for! Also, his kids are adorable and I'm glad to finally meet them as well as his husband. Nico's been globe trotting as usual, full of fun and exciting stories to tell us. Dewey's been taking it easy, trying to create a better work-life balance after taking on too much last year.

So far their break has been going really well. With everything going on in their personal lives, they could really take some time off. Artist's block sucks but sometimes there's nothing you can really do about it other than wait it out and focus on other things. Creativity can be finicky, especially when you've got other things on your mind like responsibilities, burnout, or a busy schedule.

I've been in a bit of a creative slump as well. From running events at the camp to personal life stuff getting in the way, I've been feeling off this past week. Like I can't relax because I have a million things running in my mind. If I'm expecting a call or email I find myself unable to focus on anything else because I'm too busy mentally preparing for having to do something that makes me nervous and often drained at the end.

Fortunately, I managed to get pretty much all the boring and stressful adulting stuff out of the way. But after spending most of last week being on edge, it's hard to fall back into my normal rhythm. I've been kinda on autopilot, just trying to get through the day. Up until a couple days ago I've been feeling pretty meh most of the time.

Usually, to de-stress, I turn to art. Doodling, journaling, knitting - whatever creative medium I'm in the mood for. But when you're in an art block, it causes more stress. As someone who's been journaling for years, there will be times when you've hardly touched your notebook in days, weeks, and even months. I have to say, though, since running the camp I've been journaling in a somewhat regular basis - especially when I started incorporating art journaling into it - but I still have times when I'm just not feeling it.

Sometimes getting your feelings out on paper doesn't help, especially when you don't have the words to explain exactly how you feel without it sounding forced or an incomprehensible mess of words. There are times when I want to write about something but the words just don't come out right, so I end up scrapping the whole thing. And of course, there are times when I want to write about something that's been on my mind, only to end up rambling about something else and going off on that tangent.

Then there are times when your mind is so fogged up that you come up completely empty. Up until today, I've been head full of fog, thoughts completely empty. Still kinda feels like that, to be completely honest, but the fog's slowly clearing up. I think the whale ride really helped with that.

As someone who believes a change of scenery and a good distraction helps when life takes a lot of out you, I find that I have a hard time following my own advice. I'm all about taking time to forget your troubles and worries for a bit, but yet I'm having difficulty doing so. I don't know why, but I always find it difficult to completely let loose - like I let myself have fun but at the same time my worries are always there in the back of my mind. It's like I'm subconsciously telling myself to have fun, but not too much fun. As much as I want to let go, there's a part of me that holds on, making me afraid to let myself fall freely.

What's the point in telling people to escape their troubles for a bit when I can't even do that without feeling like I'm doing something wrong? It's not that I don't know how to have fun - though it's taken a lot longer for me to catch on than most people - but sometimes it feels forced. I don't know, it's always something I've struggled with - at least compared to most of my peers growing up. Maybe part of it comes from being a convenient person - one who doesn't ask for much, someone who doesn't go out of their way to bring attention to themselves - the kind of person who tags along and is just there.

It's kinda like I don't know exactly how to have fun. Sort of like I'm second guessing myself by wondering, "Is this what having fun feels like? Am I doing it right? Is this enough?" and of course, that totally defeats the purpose of escaping and letting go.

I have to say, being at the camp as helped a lot in terms of teaching me how to live in the moment and enjoy the good times to the fullest. It's still a bit of a new concept for me, but at least I'm coming out of my shell - and that's what counts. Maybe I'll never be as carefree as some people - I've been told that I'm kinda low-key and serious by nature - and I'm okay with that. Sometimes I wish that I could be a bit more vocal and expressive and active, but most of the time I'm happy with being an observer and doing my own thing in the background.

It was Chai and Rhonda's idea to visit the Sparkle Islands. It was on the list for a while but for the past year the islands were undergoing a lot of reconstruction so a lot of places were closed. Leyla, who's one of the princesses of the islands, was behind a lot of the restoration and repair of various sites.

Turns out that I just missed her when we visited Maron Heights to watch our friends perform in After Hours at the Opera. Because she was so busy getting the islands back in shape, she dropped by to see the show the night before we came and went back home the next morning.

Like with Kat, Hawk, AJ, and Elara, Leyla's been going through a bunch of changes as well now that things are settling down. Aside from rebuilding the islands, Leyla's getting reacquainted with her mom Archer, who disappeared about twenty years ago in a disaster that left part of the main island in shambles for years. Having her back is still a huge adjustment for Leyla and her momma Rosie as she missed out on a lot. Leyla and Kat are pretty much on the same page when it comes to reuniting with a parent who was presumed dead for most of their lives. Despite the initial awkwardness, things are going well.

As for Leyla, a heated reunion between her moms led to an unexpected surprise - three actually. In about five months their little family of three will double in size. While her moms are terrified, Leyla's at the point where she's fully looking forward to having three new siblings. Sure, it'll be tough as her moms are out of practice with taking care of a baby (or babies). The way Leyla sees it, the 20 + age difference is more of an advantage because she can easily help take care of the babies as her moms will definitely be overwhelmed.

So along with overseeing the islands, Leyla's been helping Rosie take care of Archer, who's on strict bedrest. Archer's doing okay for the most part but the pregnancy has taken a toll on her, especially since there's a high potential for complications. Now with reconstruction almost done - about 98% according to Leyla - she has been spending a lot of time with her moms.

It was by chance that we ran into Lenie and her brothers as well as Leyla and her moms. Leyla's been dropping by to check in on us but it wasn't until today she joined us on a fun filled day of crafting floaties and riding whales. Rosie insisted that Leyla take a well deserved break and invited us for dinner when we got back.

Crafting floaties was a lot of fun and so was diving in the Shimmering Whirlpool. It does take some getting used to though, and one should be a somewhat experienced swimmer as the currents can get quite unpredictable. A bit too rough for my liking at times - not a fan of being spun around quickly because motion sickness, ugh - but overall it was an interesting experience. Definitely more into crafting floaties though.

Maybe I would be more of a thrill seeker if I didn't get so dizzy easily. I can't even look at something spinning for more than half a minute without feeling a headache coming on.

Late afternoon and evening were much more chill, thankfully. Bubble tea, sandwiches, and ice cream at the beach. Building sandcastles and breaking open coconuts. Lying on a beach towel under an umbrella and watching the waves. It's hard to believe that a couple months ago this place was left in ruins.

The biggest highlight was the whale ride. Leyla set us up with some of her friends, who were more than happy to let us hop on and show us the ocean. And I have to say, it was an amazing experience!

For a moment, I was able to let go completely. No worries, no doubts, no second guessing myself. Just bliss and exhilaration. A rare moment in which I get to be in the moment instead of being aware that I'm living a memory that I'll be looking back on fondly someday. It's strange, to lose yourself like that and not feel... weird? Guilty? Disconnected? Like you're not enjoying it enough because a part of your mind is elsewhere.

Riding a whale towards a sunset - what a way to spend an evening! I guess my takeaway from this mind blowing experience is that I need to learn that a part of having fun is letting happiness come to you instead of forcing it or telling yourself that you should be enjoying this. I need to keep that in mind.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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atsoukalidis · 4 years

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A very interesting article / reminder for parents by my friend Elena Petre, that I repost here.

“Parental Self-Regulation and Tantrums

Recently, while browsing social media in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I ran across the following two images: the first from the Facebook page of developmental psychologist Dr. Stephanie Grant and the second from the Instagram page @OurMamaVillage. These important statements inspired me to spend some time writing about this, as I realize some of these concepts are not self-explanatory to everyone out there.

At the therapy department of Child Advocates of Fort Bend, we use the terms “emotional regulation” and “dysregulation” a lot. These are key psychology concepts, especially in the context of treatment for trauma—which we specialize in.

SO, HERE’S A DEFINITION TO START:

“Emotional regulation refers to the process by which individuals influence which emotions they have, when they have them, and how they experience and express their feelings.”

Self-regulation is important because it allows children and adults to do well in the various areas of their lives: school, work, interpersonal relationships, etc. It also very much impacts our self-image and self-esteem, and it makes us feel good about what we can handle in life. Or, on the contrary, if we feel like our emotions get “the best of us” on a consistent basis and we’re not able to regulate well, we may label ourselves in a negative way, leading to harmful feelings like shame.

The thing about emotional regulation is that children look to their caregivers to co-regulate.

Because of this, a child will not be able to develop better regulation skills than the ones they see in the environment in which they grow up. Children are NOT born with the ability to calm themselves down—i.e. think of toddlers who cry until they get their needs met: food, sleep, soothing. Young children resort to tantrums as a means of getting the caregivers’ attention because they still have not developed the language and awareness to communicate like we (adults) do. As children grow up, they will watch the adults around them to learn how to internally process feelings and outwardly react to situations, especially emotional crises.

So, if a caregiver tends to engage in behaviors like frequent screaming, hitting, throwing things, cursing, shaming, belittling, emotional numbness, etc. when they are in crisis, a child who witnesses this may (1) become afraid because the person who they look to for safety is not in control of their own emotions, (2) internalize feelings of shame if the behaviors are directed at them, i.e. “I am a bad child”, and (3) likely become even more dysregulated. Some children will shut down emotionally as a way to compensate for the high levels of emotion their caregiver is displaying. This child will appear “very calm,” but inside feel numb. This way of coping is called becoming “hypoaroused,” and it can be an issue later in life because the child may become so used to shutting down that they may have a hard time identifying and feeling their own feelings, both positive and negative ones. Being hypoaroused can also lead children and teenagers to disconnect from their bodies and “gut feelings” so that when they’re in risky situations later in life, protecting themselves may become harder. Then there’s the children who, when they experience a dysregulated caregiver, will become “hyperaroused.” This means that they will also scream, curse, and throw things— essentially matching or “one-upping” the behavior they’re seeing. If the caregiver perceives this as disrespect or as evidence that the child is not “listening” or complying with the caregiver’s disciplining, and becomes even more dysregulated, then child and caregiver enter a vicious cycle that really damages the relationship and erodes the child’s self-esteem. Both hypoarousal and hyperarousal in children can result in interpersonal issues later in life.

And listen, we’re human beings—not machines. It’s ok to “lose it” sometimes. There will be times when we’ll make mistakes and yell, be unfair to someone we care for or react in the heat of the moment. I’m not saying that losing control sometimes means being a bad parent or caregiver, or that it results in ruining a child’s life. Going back to apologize and correct when we make mistakes can repair the relationship and has the added benefit of modeling humbleness, self-awareness and genuine apologizing to children.

What I really want to leave you with, however, is that emotional regulation is very important and that it is NOT a matter of willpower only. Some people come from families where there was a high degree of dysregulation—likely as a result of generational trauma. If this is your case, and you’re telling yourself, “Next time I’ll control myself; I’ll just force myself to do better”—you may be in for a disappointment.

The good news is that emotional regulation is a skill, not an identity we’re either born with or not. When we didn’t know how to drive yet, we didn’t just tell ourselves, “I’ll force myself to drive and it will work.” We had someone else teach us and then we practiced what we learned. It’s ok to lack an emotional skill; that’s not our fault. But it is our responsibility to get the support we need to practice this skill—especially if it impacts others.

Therapy is a great place to start. Meditation and mindfulness are also really helpful in slowing us down. Have candid and vulnerable conversations with your children when things are calm and ask them how they perceive your reactions during high-emotion times and how it makes them feel. Take a free parenting class online if you think it may be helpful. Operate from a place where you are separating your child’s behaviors from who they are; your child did something bad, they are not bad. And if you’re so emotional that you can’t make that differentiation, take a break. Try not to discipline when you’re at your angriest.

Sometimes I hear parents say things like, “I just have a short fuse; it is who I am” or “a loud tone is just how I talk.” And while I see where they’re coming from, this sort of black-and-white thinking can be very limiting. A more constructive and hopeful thought could be: “I struggle to regulate emotionally. It’s a skill I did not have the opportunity to really develop early on in life, but I am committed to do the work and get better at it now so that it does not cause my children pain.”

It’s not too late. It can get better; YOU can get better at it—but there’s some work involved.

So, forget about that old phrase “do as I say, not as I do.” When it comes to emotional regulation, developing a healthy self-image and learning how to cope with challenges and strong emotions, children will do as we do, not as we say.”

Elena Petre, LMSW

References: Gross and Thompson, (2007): Emotion regulation: Conceptual foundations.

#philosophy #life #psychology #elena petre #parenting

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thekidultlife · 6 years

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The Coldest Human; The Warmest Robot | Jihoon! Android AU

Words: 13362 (yep. a lot. I know)

Genre: Fluff?, Slight Angst?

(A/N: So this fic was definitely based on the book “Do Android Dream of Electric Sheep?” by Philip K. Dick (if you watched Psycho-Pass, you’ll know that Shogo Makishima makes the best dystopian novel recommendations) and the anime “Beatless”. Both gave such profound food for thought about androids and AI and I’ll tackle what I think about them in the following android series I’ll do since I enjoyed building this world, needless to say lmao. This first one is about androids and their lack of ‘emotion’ (dades named it as empathy, while beatless called it ‘soul’) and the possibilities of a relationship between androids and humans. I know others would feel reserved about this (I am too. It’s just fckiing weird) so I kept it open, a thought to explore. So here you go! I hope you guys like it!)

P.S. If you’re interested to discuss these things with me, the askbox and message box (?) are open! :) I’m more than happy for a thought exercise.

“Ok. Good.”

He wouldn’t have imagined that those were the words he would hear after an immeasurable number of years.

“He’s working.”

He blinked; the machineries whirring in his chest and the cogwheels sphinning in his head. How many years was he out?

“Could you do a system evaluation?” he heard you ask and he answered without hesitation, the words spilling from his cherry pink lips.

“Memory, intact. System processing, stable. Vitals, stable. Body coordination, malfunction on the right arm joint…”

“Good. Just a bit of tweaking and repair,” you told him in such a mechanical voice that he wondered if you were one too. “Anyway, do you have a name?”

He blinked again; now aware that he was in a sitting position on a worn sofa and that he was in a small laboratory with you who was in a lab coat. His white blond hair fell on his forehead as he leaned in forward.

“I’m Jihoon.”

You nodded and gave a miniscule smile; a bit too cold for a human.

“I’m Y/N.”

3 hours earlier

“Ow! What the fuck?”

It wasn’t weird that you had almost tumbled forwards when your knees had hit a large box which was perfectly hidden by the dim lights of the hallway. It had been almost two years since you took a step into your mother’s old lab yet the throb of pain in your chest remained the same since day one.

You flicked the switch on, hoping that the other lights in the lab were still working, or else you might as well find yourself repairing every single one of them in the next few days. Luckily, you didn’t have to as the stark fluorescent lights flickered on without much difficulty.

With the lights now fully on, you glanced down on your feet to see what you had hit a little bit earlier. To your surprise, it was a large wooden crate that had your mother’s name and the address of her lab imprinted on it.

A slight look of confusion marred your face.

“Who on earth would have sent this?”

You asked even though you knew no one was going to reply. Trying to look for a return address, you only sighed when you found none and it kind of freaked you out. Nevertheless, the nagging feeling in your chest was tempting you to take the crowbar from the workshop.

“Well, doesn’t seem like it’s dangerous.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, holding the crowbar on your grasps and with a few strong tugs, you popped the lid open. What you found had you scrambling far, far away.

“—shit…!”

At the first sign of hair and limbs had your heart almost jumping out of your chest. There was no denying that a body of a dead person might have been sent to you and the image of the body sitting in fetal position was hammered into your head which you swore you will never forget in your entire life. Your hand immediately flew to the device you had on your wrist; looking for the emergency button which rang up the authorities automatically.

But taking a closer look, you noticed the unnatural white blond hair which almost looked like silicon and the pale asbestos white skin that was too perfect and too flawless to be human. Then, you finally saw the clothes which he was wearing—a black button-up and trousers which had a familiar emblem stitched into it.

“Wait…is that…oh.”

You took a few steps forward and hesitantly peered into the contents of the box with less panic and more objectivity. Finally seeing the signs which proved your thoughts, you gave a long sigh of relief as you sank to the floor on your knees; prying the other sides of the wooden crate open so that you wouldn’t have to carry something as heavy as an android.

Under normal circumstances, people couldn’t detect the difference between a human and an android and 99% of the time, there really was no difference—with the new Nexus 9 processing system, even fake emotions could be simulated. The only thing in the way is how androids cannot fully duplicate the humanness in humans.

Yet you have lived among these androids since you were born in a small colony orbiting Mars and your Mom was one of the best android engineers there ever was. Every miniscule twitch, or lack thereof, could alert you that the one you’re talking to is made of metal and codes after years of spending time with them.

“So, Jihoon?” you asked once more, trying to be sure if he was really fully functioning as you placed your tools back neatly inside a box.

He nodded, then scanned the whole lab as you observed his every action. Androids tend to do that—they’re logical to a fault. He could have already planned his way out within those few seconds, you thought.

“Do you have any idea why you’re here?” you continued your inquiry, now sitting beside him.

“Yes, actually,” he replied without hesitation as he gazed right at you with unblinking eyes. “I wish to see Dr. L/N. She created me.”

Upon hearing his request, you sighed and slumped back on the worn sofa, thankful that dust was essentially non-existent in the filtered colonies. He was still looking at you and waited for any visible reaction but your gaze was as empty as his.

“She’s gone now. Dead,” you informed him nonchalantly as if you were just talking about the weather; trying to be as detached as you could be. “Gone ever since the mass riot in Hangar 15.”

Jihoon nodded since he was there in Hangar 15 when his fellow androids organized an uprising to escape the organization. Yet he chose not to participate in the event since he didn’t trust the plan that was laid, though he also chose not to help anyone, even the humans who perished.

“So, there it is,” you continued when he uttered no reply, standing up so you could stare at him.

You were not an idiot not to know that he was one of the recently escaped Nexus 9 androids from the organization and he was now on the hitlist of greedy bounty hunters disguised as police officers by the bureaucracy. What’s good about that was that you weren’t obliged to turn him in.

“Are you her daughter?” he asked so suddenly that you raised your eyebrow in curiosity.

“I am. Why did you want to meet her anyway?”

He shrugged. “I needed to ask her something important regarding my functions.”

“Functions? You mean how you work?” you asked, inclining your head as if you were mulling the thought over. “Well, if that’s how it is, then maybe we could look into the computer over there.”

You pointed your head towards the direction of a series of computer screens on a workspace just to your left as Jihoon followed with his eyes. Walking over there, you turned on the main switch and rebooted the in-air holographic interface which allowed you to control several functions without really touching a solid object (ala Tony Stark style). Jihoon trailed behind you as he looked around and then back to you who was already providing the password.

“So, what did you want to look at?” you finally asked with a glitter in your eyes which Jihoon had noticed was only present in humans.

When you posed the question, the blond android immediately fell silent as he tried to rake his brain on what he actually wanted to know. However, within his usual processing time of five nanoseconds, he could not find any answer. In the meantime, you feared that he could be malfunctioning, so you walked closer and reached for his forehead, trying to see if his processor had heated up (which was so appropriately akin to a fever in humans). As soon as he felt your touch, Jihoon twitched and backed away, earning a surprised expression from you.

“I’m sorry. I feel disoriented right now,” he told you, avoiding your gaze.

“It’s ok. You might need some time to recalibrate yourself. Just rest on the sofa for the night…” you replied, a little bit confused and intrigued at the situation. “I’ll be leaving now.”

He nodded gingerly and returned to the couch as you moved to the exit and before you left, you glanced at him with an expression mix of worry and curiosity.

“An android’s main function is to protect itself, or, if it is programmed to work, then his responsibilities and obligations. It cannot work outside its program.”

Your instructor’s voice rang across the almost empty auditorium with its titanium walls and polyester seats burning your eyes with boredom. Being in class always felt too cumbersome, listening to a pre-recorded teacher who refer to androids as ‘it’, which you had some sort of strange distaste even though you knew they were right. Androids are nothing but a lump of metal, plastic and other materials with an artificial heart and brain—it shouldn’t be placed at the same level as humans.

“Everything they do are only mere pre-programmed responses. Even the Nexus 8 processor still has a few insufficiencies which could still possibly be detected by android detection tests such as the Voigt-Kampff scale and the Bonelli Reflex-Arc. However, Nexus 9 which was recently developed to perfection has undermined these insufficiencies, moving closer to simulate human beings. ”

That was how the whole system worked. The organization will produce these androids with a new Nexus processor and in a few and, often orchestrated escapes, these androids will be hunted down by bounty hunters. How, why and what killed these androids will then be used in order to improve the next line of androids.

Welcome to the organization.

“Y/N, I can’t seem to understand how to program involuntary movement.”

“Wow! Didn’t you get the highest score in the last practicals?”

“Ms. L/N, please detail to us how the Voigt-Kampff tests work.”

“My goat back at home had kids. Sorry, I’m not allowed to give them.”

“Did you already get the programming assignment? It’s due tomorrow.”

“When I was an engineering student just like you, I knew how to work out an android with my eyes closed.”

“Hey, Y/N! Pay your electric bill. I don’t want you getting our electricity cut.”

“My parents got me an ostrich. They’re very rare these days.”

“Those are just androids. They’re not like animals or humans.”

“You look tired.”

You blinked.

The gaze Jihoon was giving you seemed curious yet you only shook your head and slumped back on the worn sofa. These days, the only place which could give you solace was your mother’s old lab and Jihoon’s quiet presence. You were left on your own thoughts, which was a far contrast from the loud environment you were immersed in every single day.

“Class is shit as always,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose as you willed your nausea away. “My roommate is shit as always. My life is shit as always.”

“Why don’t you leave then?” Jihoon asked as he fiddled with an old laptop he found in the stockroom, trying to revive it, his voice as deadpan and mechanical as ever.

“It’s not as easy as you think,” you replied while you threw a severe look at him, which he only shrugged and continued soldering the wires into the motherboard.

“Humans are complicated. I cannot comprehend most of what they do and why they are doing it,” Jihoon remarked without even giving you a remarkable glance.

You looked at the distance with a blank look. “Most humans don’t understand what they’re doing or why they’re doing it. They just do it because that’s what they feel.”

Noticing his long stare, you averted your gaze back at Jihoon who had stopped fixing the gadget and just looked at you with a troubled expression.

“What does it feel like to feel?” he finally asked which had you returning his own stare, unable to think of an appropriate answer.

You sighed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to know.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Jihoon replied as he shot his brow, blond fringes falling softly on his forehead. “I’ve watched humans interact over the years and I’ve tried to understand their actions, yet until now, I couldn’t. Even at this time and age when emotions could easily be manipulated, I cannot comprehend why you still haven’t dialed up your Penfield for a happier mood to remove your unhappiness.”

Immediately, you narrowed your gaze at him for questioning your actions, yet you felt totally embarrassed that he had noticed the last shred of stubbornness remaining in you. After your mother’s funeral, you bought a Penfield mood organ so you wouldn’t sink into your eminent depression yet until now, you didn’t have the courage to use it; remaining in your wrist untouched.

“What do you want me to do then?” you finally asked, exhausted from the variety of emotions pushing you around.

Jihoon shrugged again, now returning to his work on the old laptop. “Nothing. You humans are so sentimental.”

You ignored him and inclined your head upwards, watching the bright fluorescent lights with a pensive mood.

Jihoon counted how many days since he had stayed with you since he basically had nothing to do but fix the entire lab to how it used to be and mull over his situation. He knew you knew that he was a rogue android yet he wondered why you haven’t reported him yet. He hypothesized that you couldn’t really be bothered to report him or you secretly enjoyed his presence.

Over the past few weeks, Jihoon had found himself thinking about you the most. He defended to himself that you were his mere case study yet why did he even bother to defend himself from his own? It was not like he had some sort of conscience, so then why? He didn’t want to tell you but he had long gotten suspicious about how his processing was a bit different than his fellow androids and maybe that was the reason why he had sought your mother. So whenever you weren’t around, he tried to snoop around your mother’s main computer to see if there were any notes left about how he was made or how his Nexus 9 processor was programmed, however, he had not found any significant data yet.

“What are you doing?” he asked, curious as he peered over your shoulder while you worked on the main computer.

“A project. We’re tasked to program specific responses in the event that someone tries to flirt with an android,” you replied without removing your concentration from the string of codes and numbers on the screen.

“I see. I guess that applies to prostitute androids,” he noted as he pulled out a chair to sit beside you, also monitoring the screen.

“You know that’s illegal.”

“Doesn’t stop anyone from doing it. Besides, the organization sells them anyway,” Jihoon shrugged as you arched an eyebrow at him, considering that he had a point.

“Androids are common commodity nowadays, huh? Sometimes you wonder what else they are made for.”

At that juncture, you had long been distracted from your work and was only staring at Jihoon, gauging if you could ask the question long floating in your head. Jihoon knew what you wanted to know by the path the conversation was going, so he had already beaten you down the chase.

“I’m designed for military use. Tactical adviser and technical expert,” he simply replied. “Our SVT line is equipped with quantum computers—the first of its own kind.”

You scoffed, a little bit amused. “You planned your whole escape, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he had no longer seen any reason why he had to hide that fact from you. “All five of us escaped. I don’t know where they are now and I don’t really care.”

Smiling, you finally asked the central irony of it all. “You escaped from the organization yet here you back in their labs. Why?”

Your grin morphed into a giggle when Jihoon turned his head away from you as if he wanted you to ignore that single aspect, sulking when you hadn’t.

“I have my reasons,” he replied with a pout.

“Which I’ll assume to be completely logical and a hundred percent android,” you retorted back with a playful grin and teasing eyes.

“Of course they are,” he defended with a glare and you only laughed at him. “I’m not joking, you know.”

“I know,” you smiled warmly and stood up, pinching his cheek to lift the frown on his lips, though much to his chagrin.

“Don’t do that,” he warned you, yet you only did it again on his other cheek. “Stop it already!”

You had already removed your hand before he could swat it away, as you laughed so hard that you almost fell to the ground. Jihoon was definitely not amused yet he had noticed some sort of malfunction in his system that made him all seem too light hearted. He’ll do a system check later.

“Haven’t I told you before?” your voice had finally caught his attention and dragged him away from his thoughts. “You seem so human. It’s so weird.”

I wish I wasn’t human.

These days though, you actually wished you weren’t.

It’s as if the colony was hell unloosened and you are right at the middle of it to feel everything. Though you were still a fool nonetheless, just like how Jihoon had said—not using the mood organ you bought when it was the most convenient. You didn’t need to feel hell, just a number to dial up and then you’re fine.

“481 for hopefulness; 888 for the incredible want to watch television and 3 for the desire to dial your Penfield mood organ! Come and feel complete!” You sang the commercial for the mood organ with every note dripping with sarcasm as you sat in fetal position on the worn sofa of the lab; fiddling with the buttons of the device. “If I used it, would I feel complete?”

“Data has shown that humans usually do not,” Jihoon’s mechanical voice interrupted your thoughts, together with the rattling of the toolbox filled with discarded devices he gathered from the stockroom.

You grinned cynically. “What if androids use it? Will you then feel empathy?”

The blond android paused for a while to look at you from where he sat on the workbench and then continued his search in the toolbox after a minute.

“You already know that we do not have a brain to attach the mood organ to. We have a processor yet it wouldn’t respond to the device,” he replied in an annoyed voice which would’ve meant that he need not to remind you what you had already learned in class.

“I’m just teasing you,” you replied with a small smile which immediately disappeared after a second.

Jihoon sighed. “Dial 999. It won’t make you feel anything.”

The android had caught your glare and held on to it. Using the mood organ was the most logical thing to do in your situation. He knew you were simply trying to hold on to a few loose strings and the best way not to let them go is to sacrifice something. He could not understand why you still refuse to do so.

“I can’t do it,” you confessed; hiding your face from his scrutinizing stare.

“Why?”

“I feel…I feel like if I did, I’ll lose myself.”

Jihoon stared. “I don’t understand.”

You smiled at him weakly.

Your head pounded, eyes burning, cheeks stained.

Where were you?

Bloodshot eyes blinking at the blinding white lights overhead, you soon realized that you cried yourself to sleep in the lab. It was awfully noisy unlike most days—incomprehensible noise which eventually turned into sweet, sweet music which almost lulled you back to sleep, except that you had noticed that it was Jihoon who was singing beside you on the sofa with a makeshift electric piano on his lap.

“Good morning. You look like you had a nightmare,” he remarked as soon as he saw you gazing towards his direction without a word.

You scoffed. “My whole life is a nightmare.”

“All humans say that,” Jihoon replied harshly, though you didn’t care. “Want some water?”

You nodded, feeling your throat as rough as sandpaper, and Jihoon immediately complied, moving the electric piano away with its bare wirings, and towards the newly-installed water dispenser.

“They still have that on sale?” you asked as you sat on the sofa beside Jihoon, pointing at the piano after he had brought you water.

“I found a shop online which sells old stuff, I saw a complete set of piano keys and put it together with an old stereo I found here,” Jihoon replied, looking proudly at his work.

You raised your brows in astonishment. “You’re incredibly resourceful.”

Jihoon gave a small smile (you knew this one was pre-programmed), and then replied, “Shall I play a song for you?”

“I wonder why ‘piano playing and singing’ was added to a tactical adviser’s program,” you teased, earning a genuine glare from Jihoon before he ignored your remark and moved on with playing.

Watching his fingers move across the keyboard, you couldn’t tell if he was an android or not. He moved fluidly, the notes he was making was enough to touch you—it was a song designed to make you feel relaxed since you had just cried. It was a song just for you.

You loved how the song dipped and rose; how Jihoon’s voice was husky yet soft against the notes; how he seemed like he was honestly trying to reach out to you, to comfort you. How is he capable of such skill which only humans could harness? It had filled your mind in more than one night, yet this night, you ignored the question and relished the beauty which Jihoon made with his music.

The song ended without you even noticing it. You continued to stare into the tiled floor as Jihoon studied you closely for any reaction.

“You know, I feel so tired.”

You began, holding the plastic cup which you drank water with as you continued to look blankly into the dark hallways of the lab.

“I feel so tired of feeling—feeling empty, then feeling overwhelmed; feeling like I could do everything, then life drops me down on the cold, cold asphalt,” you chuckled, every laugh dripping with cynicism. “Is there a way not to feel?”

“Be an android then,” Jihoon replied back with a frown; knowing you wouldn’t use the mood organ.

You sneered. “If only I could. Probably download my consciousness on a mechanical body—they’re developing it now, you know.”

“You’ll miss how to feel. You don’t want to be like me,” he told you as he himself gazed downward, his words reflecting a deep hidden yearning.

“I don’t think so,” you replied defiantly, with a sour tone on your voice. “I will be useless if I can’t do what I’m supposed to do, and my emotions are only in the way.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand why you want to remove your feelings. Humans cannot do away in this world without meaning, as what I am told of.”

“It’s ok. I don’t expect you to understand. What do you even know? You only copy humans to manipulate us into thinking that you are one of us. You only mimic feelings and emotions but do not understand the meaning behind them.” your voice was getting louder, harsher, colder; but it’s not like Jihoon could react to your anger. “Emotions brought nothing good to me. They impede with my work, they make me cry at night, they fill me with stress! Without it, I would have gotten on with my life much, much better when Mom died!”

Jihoon didn’t expect the rush of adrenaline surge into his system; a sudden temper induced by you who had emotions he might have wished for, yet you wanted to throw away.

He held on both your arms to stop you from shouting at him—forcing you to look at him straight in the eyes. His platinum hair looked like it was frazzled by static rage as his bangs covered one of his eyes.

“Listen to me. If you hadn’t had any emotions then how would you know if your mother cared for you? How would you know if she loved you? You cried because you cared for her; because you love her and I, like you said, will never understand that. I will never understand what a meaningful life means, But you will.”

Rendered speechless, you could only stare at him with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Even if your mother had died, she had loved you when she was alive. She raised you to be a normal human being even though she was alone. And here you are, abandoning everything she gave for you; wanting to forget the love she taught you.”

“I’m—”

“You think being an android is heaven?” he jeered. “Wait till you become one. Wait till you just move because that’s what the program says so; wait till you don’t have things like free will. Wait till you realized that you are nothing but what you are—a clump of metal and plastic stripped around mechanical organs. You don’t feel anything because you’re existence is meaningless and replaceable.”

Jihoon released you from his grasps yet reached out for your hand where the mood organ sat snuggly on your wrist.

“Use it. Dial 999.”

He ordered and you froze with mouth agape; filled with astonishment.

“Dial 999. You don’t have to feel anything you don’t want to.”

You simply stared at him.

“Use it Y/N! Use the fucking mood organ—”

“I can’t, okay?” you shouted…and then sobbed, holding on to his arm which was still on your wrist. “…I can’t…I fucking…can’t…”

The tears which flowed out from you seemed endless as you cried out two years’ worth of grief and hopelessness. Everything that you poured your heart into turned to nothing, the time you spent was all meaningless. You thought things will get better someday but life gradually destroys you day by day; as your situation and the people around you torture you endlessly.

“I don’t know what to do anymore…” you said in between whimpers as you fell between Jihoon’s arms. “If I used the mood organ…what would be left of me then…? Am I only made human because of this, this thing? My emotions will no longer be mine…”

Silently, Jihoon cradled you as he listened to you pour out to him, or to anyone about what you feel for the first time.

“But I’m so tired…tired of keeping up this illusion that I’m strong. I’m…the one always taking care of others…but who takes care of me when I can no longer put up this façade? They…they don’t know I’m so sick of studying…of being perfect. I want to rest already…” you resigned, burying your face on Jihoon’s shoulder and relishing his warmth despite how artificial it technically is. “I know it’s necessary to suffer to succeed, but how would one know if he’s on the path to success? What if all of this suffering turns into nothing? I wish life just has a skip button where I can skip to the point in my life where I’m rich and successful. Fuck this Jihoon, I’m so scared of the future.”

“Sometimes, we just overthink and things don’t really happen, you know?” Jihoon tried to assure you but he knew it wasn’t as effective as he hoped to be.

“I don’t want to get my hopes up and disappoint myself again in the end. The future is full of possibilities, one false move and my life comes crashing down. I wish I could be as easy-going as other people. I feel…so, so jealous of people enjoying their lives…while I’m stuck here trying to be perfect. This isn’t the life I want.”

“You don’t always have to be perfect…” Jihoon whispered in a solemn voice.

“No one will accept me if I wasn’t.” You sniffed, clinging to his black button up for support you dearly needed. “Everyone I know use me for their own purposes because I can get them through school, through life. They will leave me if I’m no longer useful.”

“I’ll accept you,” he replied immediately. “I don’t need you to be anything but yourself. It doesn’t matter to me. I will always be here for you if you need me.”

You chuckled amidst the sobs. “If you talk like that, then I would absolutely believe you. Please say this isn’t an analog hack,”

“I’m not lying. If I am that would just be ironic.”

You leaned back to gaze into his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“If I’m allowed to, I’ll tell you I can understand. Being useless, being abandoned…it’s an android’s greatest fear, if we indeed feel fear. I need to be special for people to use me, so that I can stay by their side and provide myself a sense of purpose.”

Gazing at him with wide eyes, you remarked, “I never knew androids find meaning in their work.”

“I can’t say about the other androids, but that’s what I think.”

For the first time that night, you smiled at him sincerely, as you strung your fingers between his locks, brushing them away from covering his eyes.

“Thank you for being here. There’s just days when I can’t hold it anymore, and need someone to cry on to. Please stay with me like this.”

“I’ll stay. Don’t worry,” he quietly replied, as he coaxed you back between his arms, and allowing you to stay like that as long as you’d like.

Buried on his chest, you hummed in satisfaction. “You’re the warmest android I’ve ever met.”

Your words had him thinking for days.

It wasn’t like a big surprise; he had already known that there was something different with him. Jihoon knew he was curious to a fault and had such a deep yearning to understand the things around him, though he didn’t know if it was because he was programmed to work that way.

Do all androids introspect?

For the first time in several months, Jihoon went outside the lab for a walk. Honestly, he disliked taking walks, or going outdoors, for that matter. Yet today, he suddenly had the urge to do it. He didn’t know why he had urges. He knew androids don’t usually have them. Is this some new feature of the Nexus 9?

It was nice that the colony had a special forest beside the laboratories and everything in it were all the remaining species of trees and plants on earth. After the third world war, radioactive dust from detonated nuclear bombs had ravaged the home planet and gradually killed the flora and fauna. There are people left on earth, mostly those who refused to migrate and specials who aren’t qualified to migrate, and they live in means Jihoon does not find suitable for people. Though even in the colonies, life isn’t as great as they advertised it to be.

He had been wrecking his processor for thinking day and night until his system had warned him that he was heating up. So the next possible solution is to cool it down with the artificial summer breeze blowing through his white blond hair, or so, he tried to reason himself. Why is he even trying to reason to himself? Why is he even trying to explain his reasons?

“Well, isn’t this new?”

Your voice rang suddenly behind him that he immediately turned around and caught you by the shoulder. You didn’t bat an eye at his actions, but instead, chuckled at him for mistaking you as an enemy.

“Relax. I’m not even authorized to carry a laser gun,” you replied with a smirk, as Jihoon released you with a sigh.

“Don’t do that again, please. I might have killed you,” he replied with a severe glare which had you raising both your eyebrows.

“Why not? Even if you had killed me, androids don’t feel any guilt,” you remarked as you slowly narrowed your gaze at him. “Yep. You’re truly weird.”

Jihoon refused to reply and simply glanced at you with a deepening frown. He was beginning to develop a distaste at how you were making him question his own self. He didn’t like how he was so confused; that he had so many questions.

“I still haven’t thanked you yet for the other day, have I? Come on,” you suddenly called his attention and grabbed his wrist, coaxing him to follow you down the forest path.

Jihoon had almost complained at how the grass was pricking his skin and convince you to return home, when you stopped at a clearing, showing you a glittering lake illuminated by the artificial moonlight. It looked truly beautiful as he stepped beside you, eyes wide and lips parted.

“Are you trying to deceive me again?” Your sing-song voice rang to his side as he gazed at you, who had already slid down the lakeside with a grin on your pretty lips. “You look pretty convincing.”

Again tonight, he had refused to reply and simply followed you down your path. In a dry spot covered by dewy grass, the both of you sat and simply observed the glistening lake as you savored the tranquility of the night. Fireflies dotted the evening air as they buzzed around the forest clearing, creating an atmosphere straight out of a fairytale.

“Sad that these fireflies are electronic,” you remarked, catching one with your hand to study the glass wings it had and the luminescent light it emitted from a nano-sized bulb built inside the small insect. “Real ones have long died out.”

“It’s to set the mood of this clearing. You are aware that this forest is a huge AI in of itself, aren’t you?” Jihoon replied, with his natural condescending tone whenever you say something stupid.

You pursed your lips to sulk. “I know, smart-ass. I just wanted to see real insects.”

“Why want a real one? There isn’t really much of a difference between the nanobugs and the real insects.”

“There is a great difference!” you defended. “Real ones don’t exist nowadays! It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see one!”

Jihoon scoffed, unable to consider the meaning again. “You humans put context to everything.”

“What’s wrong with that? Maybe that’s why we’re are able to live meaningful lives.”

Your rather pleasant conversation had once again turned into a full-blown debate about humans and androids. Jihoon, in your opinion, had interesting views regarding the current society, and how humans have long been outpaced by their own creations.

“You seem to enjoy talking to me,” Jihoon observed as he watched the artificial breeze sweep pass your locks while you tried to keep your hair in place.

“Because I dislike being lonely,” you replied without sparing him a glance. “But I need to be lonely to get things done. I need to be alone so that I can focus. There are things needed to be sacrificed.”

He raised his brows at you. “What does it feel like to be lonely?”

You inclined your head to your left to think. “The closest I could compare it to android terms is the lack of having an owner to serve. You are unable to do anything; unable to decide something outside of your understanding. An android cannot survive without being used as a tool.”

“Is that why humans seek partners in levels separate from the biological?”

A small huff. “Romance isn’t always about sex and offspring, you know.”

“Then what else is it about?”

Jihoon was now gazing at you intensely, intent of hearing out an answer from you, while you were proud to provide him information. He leaned in closer to hear you, incredibly curious.

“Listen. Liking, and then loving someone is a complex human behavior. Most androids don’t get it at all. But in simpler terms, people show their love in a million various ways and it comes in so many forms but it comes down to a simple factor—empathy, the ability to understand one another.”

“How are humans able to understand one another? I cannot find a straightforward process in the cloud, so I assume this process is based on emotional connections.”

You grinned at him as you inclined closer to his ear as if you were sharing some cool secret. “Correct, Mr. Android. But the problem is, even humans fail to understand one another, and wanna know what happens if humans fail to empathize?”

Jihoon gave an evocative gaze, waiting for an answer.

“War. Conflict. Murder. Death,” you replied, pausing a significant amount of time after every word. “Just like how the Earth is right now—just waiting to wither away underneath all that radioactive dust from nuclear warheads.”

You shook your head at the irony. “But here I am telling you all about this when I myself cannot always understand other people. You couldn’t imagine how difficult it is to understand someone bitching at you day and night; and then adjusting yourself for them.”

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon shook his head. “You’ve lost me there.”

You smile meekly. “Was that too much?”

“No, I just cannot see why you must adjust to someone who is clearly in the wrong. It’s not your fault, you didn’t commit a damn mistake, so why must you change?”

“You see, there are a lot of reasons people act the way they do, and who knows, you might be one of those reasons. If you adjust yourself, then you have removed one of the possibilities, lowering the chances the other person will do the action again. You simply cannot tell a person to change his ways. You can only change yourself.”

Jihoon considered for a while, and gradually nodded as if he had understood the logic.

“Things have become a bit more clearer for me. Thank you,” he replied with a small smile on his lips. Was he trying to deceive you again? How real is that smile?

“You’re always welcome to ask. Besides, it’s not like androids ask me about human behavior every day. In fact, you’re the only I know who had asked.”

Jihoon frowned and hid the fact that he did not like the honor of being the first android who had asked.

“Also, I still haven’t thanked you for staying with me the other night. You made me see things in a better light, and I’m trying to pick myself up from now on. I’ve read a lot of helpful books—”

Honestly, Jihoon had already lost your voice in the background noise as he had once again been swallowed up by his thoughts—thoughts regarding you and empathy. It would’ve been better if he had learned how to empathize so that you wouldn’t have to explain everything to him, and he would be able to simply understand you and your actions. But oh, you forgot to explain the physical aspects…the cloud had suggested a short cut to empathy and it seemed quite feasible.

“—so right now, I’m trying to coordinate my schedule and it seemed to be working. I’m not sure how long weekly planning will work for me, but I’m—”

Without anything—warning shots, preemptive touches, small pauses of time—nothing had prepared you to feel a pair of soft lips pressing against yours as you felt your body go numb in milliseconds. The next thing you felt was the hand cupping your chin, wondering how you had never noticed it before, as he pressed on further, moving his lips on yours and brushing so slightly, so sensually. You would’ve enjoyed the moment if not for the sudden realization that the one kissing you was Jihoon and you had to scramble away, breaking the kiss and Jihoon’s concentration.

Upon noticing your panic, he seized your hand to calm you down and to prevent you from running away. Slowly, Jihoon opened his eyes and met yours inquisitively.

“So tell me, have I established a connection between us now?”

Jihoon had sensed that he must have done something wrong. It had been days since he had last saw you and he had concluded that you were definitely avoiding him after what happened by the lake. However, he doesn’t get it.

“Was the kiss a mistake?” he whispered to himself, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers.

That time, he definitely sensed some circuit burst inside his stomach, however, when he checked his mechanisms later that night, his circuits seemed to be working fine. But, what was that then? He only did what he thought would induce empathy from both of you, yet it seemed to have backfired—prompting you to avoid him, while it caused only confusion for him.

“Did I only widened the gap between us?”

beep. boop. beep. boop.

Jihoon snapped from his thoughts as he averted his attention towards the incoming call directed to his processor, which was a function he was thankful to have. He didn’t want anyone snooping around who he contacts.

“What?” he snapped, unappreciative of the interruption.

“Yo, Woozi! ‘Sup?” a cheerful, energetic voice echoed in his mind, almost tempting him to mute the caller.

“Stop calling me that. I’m Jihoon now,” he scowled at the invisible caller.

“Then, I ain’t Hoshi anymore. Call me Soonyoung!”

Jihoon rolled his eyes and leaned back against the sofa he had long been sitting on.

“So?”

“So, what?”

“You know, you could easily blend in as a brainless special if you stay on Earth.”

“Ah, you’re harsh as ever.”

“And so? You don’t have a heart to get hurt anyway.”

Soonyoung laughed as Jihoon automatically muted the caller as soon as he passed a certain level of noise. When he had stopped laughing, Jihoon turned on the audio again with a jaded look.

“Alright, fine. I’ll give you what you want,” Soonyoung surrendered as Jihoon sighed, relieved that he didn’t have to go through anymore bullshit. “They’re moving now. They already got to Vernon.”

Jihoon frowned. “So he’s gone?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is that they’ve found him.”

“What about you?”

Jihoon could imagine the other’s grin even if he couldn’t see him and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Oh, are you worried about me, Jihoonie?”

Jihoon growled audibly. “We both know you owe me one, and you’re not allowed to retire without paying me back.”

Soonyoung sighed dramatically over the line. “I get it, okay? Calm the shit down.”

“Good. I don’t want to repeat myself.”

“Sure. Anyway, how about you? It’s been months and they haven’t found you yet in their own labs.”

“Found someone not too bothered to report me.” Jihoon stared at his nails, checking any lodged dirt.

“And…does this person know what you are?”

“Immediately after she set her eyes on me. She’s a pseudo-human behavior engineer.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh.” Soonyoung’s tone turned for a playful dip again, which definitely made Jihoon sigh for the nth time tonight. “So this person’s a ‘she’! I can’t believe you’re cruel enough to deceive her!”

Jihoon was definitely disliking the way he’s painting him into a villain. “I’m not deceiving her. Haven’t you heard me? She’s an android engineer and she knows if I use analog hack on her, and I don’t use it.”

If he could see Soonyoung, Jihoon swore the other android will definitely raise his brows at him.

“There’s a possibility that you aren’t even aware you’re already deceiving her.”

Jihoon scoffed. “I don’t have a subconscious to do that.”

“But we’re androids designed to copy humans, it’s not that too difficult to go back to default processes.”

He was having none of it. “I’m not deceiving her. Anyway, I’ll contact you when I need something. Now leave me in peace.”

Without even waiting for a reply, Jihoon turned off his communication signature to rid himself of his exhausting companion. As soon as his attention was back to the empty and desolate space of the laboratory, he had noticed something odd.

“It’s already late. She should be here by now.”

While he was voicing out his observations, Jihoon was already searching for you—hacking into various electronic devices, CCTVs, your school gate’s log and so—yet in all the places you could be, he had not found your whereabouts.

“This isn’t good,” Jihoon muttered to himself, with a tight furrow on his brow. He tried looking at camera footages from the last few hours and in just half a minute, Jihoon found out what happened to you.

Somewhere while walking to the lab a few hours ago, a white van had pulled over where men donned in black came up behind you. Jihoon saw someone cover your nose with a handkerchief which he guessed was doused with chloroform and when you no longer had the consciousness to fight back, the men had carried you into the van and drove away.

While watching, Jihoon was already hacking into a self-driving car which was already waiting for him when he had emerged from the laboratory. As soon as he entered the vehicle, Jihoon began hacking his way into the colony’s security system so that he could track where the men had taken you. The car began moving when he had finally tracked you down—not so difficult for a military-grade android.

“The fuck do I know.”

You spat out vehemently, despite being tied into a chair and wired to a lie detector machine, and another which sends controlled volts to your system upon a tap on a tablet.

It should have been a normal day for you, yet when you were abducted just as you were going to the lab, this man has been interrogating you for almost half an hour already about an android your mother had supposedly made.

“Alright little girl. We’re not playing games here,” the man, masked and voice altered, warned you for the fifth time. “We know you have it! The SVT-class android Type 07 Woozi. Where is it?!”

With gritted teeth, you threw daggers at the man. “I already told you. I don’t know any Woozi!”

Well technically, you don’t. But it’s not like you—!!

A surge of electricity ran up your spine and left as soon as it entered. However, it had left you jerking horribly.

“I’ll ask again. Where is it?”

You glared, drool slipping down your lips. “I don’t…know.”

Volts shot straight up through your skin, this time longer. You writhe in agony.

“Two years ago, your mother Dr. Y/LN was the chief engineer of the Nexus 9 project. She had developed all of the SVT-class andys, but if that’s everything there is to it, she shouldn’t be dead right now?”

You froze at the revelation and wondered if you could trust what this person was talking about. As far as you know, your mom had died because she was shot by an android during the riot in Hangar 15. She was just unlucky to be at the wrong time and place.

“What do you mean? She was killed by an andy in the riot…she’s just unlucky.”

You could hear the man sneer behind his mask.

“There’s no such thing as luck.”

He operated a terminal and showed you several holographic images of a strange device and a screenshot of programming codes. You studied them carefully and you immediately knew what the device was, and you couldn’t believe what was just laid in front of you.

“That’s a lie!” You cried out but the masked man only laughed. “It’s impossible to create an empathy organ, and nobody has ever succeeded—”

“That’s why you’re mother’s dead, little girl.”

Instantly, you were reduced to silence; eyes darting back and forth to the man and the images he had shown you.

“Without permission from the organization, your mother had installed empathy organs inside the SVT-class androids. When the organization realized what she did, they had her killed. The riot was only a cover.”

You couldn’t believe what you’re hearing. “No, no. That’s not true!”

“Now, these androids have escaped and we want them. So, where is it?”

You shook from your restraints as you chewed on your lip—deciding what to do even though you still haven’t digested yet what big of an information the man has given you.

“I…I…the android…”

—!!

A huge explosion stopped you before you could utter something coherent. Instinctively, you moved your face away from the debris suddenly hurling on the air in speeds you couldn’t calculate. Within seconds, you sensed yourself being freed from your restraints, and your heart leapt when you were then lifted from the ground and carried bridal style, your arms flying to cling to his shoulders for support.

“Sorry I was late.”

When you heard Jihoon’s voice, you immediately relaxed and felt relieved that you were finally safe. As the dust and debris fell away, you could see his eyes were on you, though you couldn’t read what he was thinking. As if finally deciding what to do, Jihoon moved you outside of the building, which was actually a warehouse, and placed you inside a self-driving car waiting nearby.

“We’ll go home after I take care of this one,” he silently told you and casually walked back inside.

When you had heard his words, you felt that there was something off with him. You couldn’t put it but you knew something was definitely going to happen and you were not going to like it. Despite the fact that you wanted to see what Jihoon was about to do, your body refused to allow you—the surges of electricity finally affecting your muscles, rendering them immovable or languid.

“Fuck this.”

Meanwhile, Jihoon kicked away the offending wood and twisted metal as if they were as heavy as pillows. His eyes were strained to only accomplish one mission—to look for the shitheads who kidnapped and tortured you. Though in a few seconds, it wasn’t his eyes which found them.

Dodging, a laser beam had missed him within a few centimeters as he retaliated back with a wave of electricity, visible as lightning and hurts just as much. Unlucky for Jihoon, the men had armor which protected them from his attack, and only left their laser guns unusable. Well, at least they’re unarmed.

Jihoon rushed towards his first victim within a blink of an eye, as he knocked the air out of him with a punch in the gut as strong as being hit by a freight train. He didn’t need to turn around to incapacitate the man who came running towards his back with a metal pipe, as Jihoon simply magnetized a sheet of metal to slice through the man’s neck.

Inside the car, you could hear the commotion going on and you willed your legs to move with desperation. You guessed that he was going to kill those men and you were absolutely right. He is a tool used for warfare and would not hesitate to rid himself of his enemies. That was what you had sensed in his words.

“Move, damn it!”

You cried out, slamming your fists repeatedly on your thigh. Maybe through sheer will, you regained a bit of control, albeit with little strength. Nonetheless, you crawled your way out of the car, and towards the destruction Jihoon was about to commit.

With only the leader who Jihoon purposely left out, the blond android casually approached the panicked man as he tried desperately to run away; except that Jihoon had his armor glued to the ground through electromagnetism as soon as he figured out that the armor was absorbing electric currents yet are not immune to magnetism.

Jihoon gazed at the man with impassiveness. “Heard you were looking for me. So here I am.”

The man couldn’t utter a single coherent word; his head all too riddled with anxiety to think of anything other than his eminent death.

“Also heard you electrocuted Y/N,” Jihoon inclined his head towards the side to wait for a reply, and when he heard none, the android picked up the man by the neck; his feet dangling on the air. “I’m curious what it feels like to electrocute someone.”

“S-so it’s true…y-you androids have, h-have an empathy organ…!” the man remarked as he sensed the anger in Jihoon’s voice, though he began wheezing when he felt his airpipes being gradually crushed.

“I apologize. I cannot comprehend,” Jihoon’s voice was void of any emotion. “Anyway, this ends here.”

“Jihoon, no—!”

Surprised to hear your voice, Jihoon averted his gaze towards you, who was heavily leaning against the concrete wall, all exhausted from reaching him. You took in your surroundings as you realized that he was already in for the last kill, and knew that you were too late, but still…

“Don’t kill him please. I’ll…I’ll just call the cops…”

Jihoon arched his brow, tightening his grip on the man who began to struggle to get out.

“Why? He tortured you. Don’t you feel angry?” the android asked, with a face still stoic.

“Just…just don’t kill him, please…” you pleaded, holding on to your still immovable arm.

You weren’t really sure what will happen as Jihoon simply stared at you, maybe studying the expression you had on your face, or maybe trying to comprehend the logic behind your request. But when Jihoon let go of the man (though, keeping him place as he stepped on the man’s leg, and a look that meant his limb will get ripped off if he doesn’t stop writhing), you sighed in relief.

“Alright, I won’t kill him. But I’ll call the cops and report the incident,” Jihoon’s voice and eyes were ice cold, which frightened you for a bit. “I won’t risk getting found.”

You nodded with a tiny smile on your face when he did what you wanted. “Let’s go home.”

“Wait for a bit, and oh, please look away,” Jihoon asked but you couldn’t understand what he had meant, but when he had picked up a metal pipe and pinned it through the man’s thigh without any sort of expression or effort, you wished you had followed him sooner.

The blond seemed to have understood the look of concern on your face and immediately took the measures to explain. “Don’t worry. I already called the police and he won’t die from bleeding if the pipe is stuck to his thigh.”

Jihoon removed his foot from the man’s leg and walked towards you, who looked as if you had seen something you shouldn’t. As soon as he got to you, Jihoon pulled you towards his arms and embraced you tightly, slowly patting your head.

“I told you to look away,” he reprimanded albeit softly.

His words seemed to have snapped the dam in you as you began sobbing on his chest, unable to control your emotions swelling up from inside you. Jihoon knew that the event left a huge trauma in you and could only comfort you, which was not one of his many talents.

“Let’s get you home, ok?”

Later that night as Jihoon finally had you sleeping against his chest, all sprawled out on the sofa, he received a call from Soonyoung.

“Mission accomplished, sir!”

“What did he say?”

“Just as you predicted. The guy’s from a competing android producer and they wanted to have the empathy organ.”

Jihoon hummed, finding this type of communication advantageous since he doesn’t have to speak as his processor directly receives the encryption and translates it into thoughts. This way, you don’t have to hear the conversation.

“Did you find any information about it?”

“Only pictures. I’ll send them to you right now. But I still haven’t found where it came from. I think that’s your specialty though.”

“Alright, just give them to me and I’ll trace it.”

“Got it. Anyway, you just tricked the goddamn girl. You told her you called the police, when it was me you actually called.”

“And the point is?” Jihoon looked at the ceiling and followed the lines formed by the lined titanium sheets, as he draped an arm over your shoulder and caressed your hair.

“You told me you wouldn’t a few hours ago?”

“I’m just protecting her. They’ll be back, so I’m simply nipping it in the bud.”

“But you also asked me to torture the guy?”

“An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Besides, we got information.”

Jihoon could hear Soonyoung hum playfully on the other end. “An andy through and through. Anything for the owner, huh?”

He checked his nails once again. “She’s not my owner.”

Soonyoung paused for quite a long time that Jihoon thought the other had finally left the line, but when he had begun shouting, Jihoon had to turn off the audio in annoyance.

“What? What? What? She’s not your fucking owner?!”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” The blond arched his brow.

“Everything is wrong with that! Why are you letting her use you when she’s not your owner?! Why are you devoting yourself to her like she owns you?! Why haven’t you asked her to be your owner?!”

“Alright, Soonyoung. Shut up before I hang up.”

“Sorry, it’s just that…I just can’t believe you…is this really you I’m talking to?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “As if there’s anyone who could steal my communication signature.”

“Wow…I just…wow…if we’re human, I would’ve said she got you whipped.”

The other frowned at the remark. “I’m hanging up. I’ll contact you again soon.”

“Huh? Wait, Jihoon—”

Again, Jihoon disregarded all the bullshit Soonyoung says and turned off his intercom. As silence filled his head once again, he glanced down on you who was peacefully sleeping on his chest on top of him, free of any worries of the real world. He already had his hand gently stroking your head, as he continued to take in all of you.

If he really had an empathy organ inside him, then it must have been real. He had done a lot of unexplainable shit that most androids will not understand or even do, as expressed by Soonyoung. (But that shithead will understand sooner or later, Jihoon smirked since all of the SVT line was said to be equipped by an empathy organ.)

So what if he indeed has one? Was he still an android? Will his actions become more unexplainable in the future? Today, Jihoon seemed to have gained more questions than answers. But he knew he wanted to understand you.

Days following the incident, you did your own investigative search about the empathy organ. Of course, you don’t want to believe your mother had created something so revolutionary nor do you want to believe Jihoon had one. He had acted so impassive and merciless all that time when he had saved you, which still send shivers through your spine, and that was a valid indication that he is an android.

On the other hand, Jihoon seemed to be as normal as he could be. He didn’t try to kiss you again, which was a relief because any more than that was seriously dangerous. You knew a lot of androids leisurely using a human being’s capability to be compassionate as a means to manipulate and you could vouch how powerful this could be, since you were one of the people who developed androids to reach this level of mimicry of the human behavior. As a human being, you weren’t immune despite how much you want to be indifferent. You still have emotions, which you refuse to let go of, and these emotions could easily be used against you by an android as high of a class as Jihoon. In the end, you still trust that everything he does was not to manipulate you.

“Y/N?”

His voice jolted you awake from your half asleep state on the sofa, papers about the SVT line all sprawled on your chest since you were studying them before you fell slightly asleep.

Sitting up, you replied as you rubbed your eyes. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Well, I want to ask something about how human emotions operate,” Jihoon began as he sat beside you, a terminal on his hands, which had something paused on its holographic screen.

“Ask away.”

Yawning and folding your legs to your chest in a fetal position, you listened to Jihoon’s question with interest.

“I’ve watched videos, movies and read articles and books about romance and how it involves human love. I’ve seen that it has physical and mental aspects, and just like you said, it isn’t always about biologically expanding the human species. I’ve analyzed that coupling brings about better understanding of one another by building emotional connections. A good way to exercise empathy. So, what if an android like me wants to do just that?”

If you weren’t shocked by his question, then you don’t know what you were feeling. His question was a good one. Most androids think but don’t understand neither do they give meaning to the things around them or what they do. They simply copy what humans do because it is what their program says, and it is the most effective and logical way to accomplish what they are programmed to do—a mere means to the ends. However, as Jihoon poses this very question, you knew the world was at its turning point, whether or not it had realized it.

“It’s impossible. You don’t have emotions to connect…to, to empathize,” you replied cautiously.

“Let’s say the engineers have invented something which enables me to do so. What then? Will humans respond in kind?” Jihoon persisted, much to your fears. You knew it was possible with the empathy organ, which might be embedded in Jihoon.

“Humans tend to empathize with everything that looks human. From animals with their big round eyes which induces motherly instincts because they look like babies who needed to be protected, to…to androids who look absolutely human,” you replied, looking at him with knowing eyes. “Of course, like anything revolutionary, there will an opposition.”

Jihoon considered your thoughts for a while and then continued. “What about you?”

You froze on your spot, afraid and unsure with your lips parted and eyes wide as both of you stared into each other’s eyes.

“You know,” you began with a small voice. “There’s a study that says if you stare into another person’s eyes, for several minutes as you share with each other your deepest emotions, fears and dreams, you will fall in love.”

The android was quiet, wondering what you were trying to imply—his calculations unable to predict your line of thought as it broke into a million pathways.

“If you have a soul, then it is possible for an android to…fall in love,” you were reluctant to complete your sentence but when you did, you felt the reality of it all reflecting on his dark cocoa eyes.

“Is it possible for me to have a soul then?” Jihoon asked, voice as soft as yours.

“An empathy organ is your ticket way there.”

“What if I do have one? Are you willing to try it with me?”

You knew Jihoon was sincerely asking you to try and love him, or everything to his wide eyes, parted lips and pleading expression was a lie, a well-crafted mimicry.

Closing your eyes, you turned your head away and sucked in a breath. He was getting into your system. Fuck, that study seemed true.

“I’m sorry…I’m not sure yet,” you replied, now avoiding his gaze.

“Why? Is it because it is unacceptable to have a relationship with an android?” Jihoon asked.

“No, I don’t really care about that…it’s just that I…I…”

You couldn’t say it. You don’t want to hurt him.

“Then what?”

“I…just…it’s just that—”

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

Frozen on your spot, you stopped your incessant movements and reprimanded yourself for hinting that he had hit you right at the jackpot.

“No, I…! I’m just scared, okay?”

Jihoon narrowed his eyes at you, frowning and cynic. “You’re scared I’ll use analog hack on you. You’re not sure if everything I say is true.”

You pursed your lips as you looked down, eyes beginning to wet. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Jihoon sighed, his shoulder deflating as he looked at your crumpled figure. “I’ll leave you in peace.”

Standing up, Jihoon walked away with hands on his pockets towards the exit. You knew he was disappointed, or appeared to be, but you just couldn’t help but also look out for yourself. There was no certainty that he wouldn’t leave you for dead just like he did with your kidnappers and the thought of his soon-to-be betrayal left your heart wringing.

“Y/N, we got company.”

You immediately scrambled by the time you heard Jihoon, who was supposed to be outside, suddenly whisper to you in a low voice. Glancing behind him, you saw a man in a trench coat with a large briefcase on hand entering the lab.

“Bounty hunter?” you asked with sheer suspicion.

“Bingo.”

The both of you stood side by side as the man approached the two of you with a courteous smile.

“Good day, sir, ma’am. Let me introduce myself, I’m Detective Choi Seungcheol,” he reached out his hand which both of you shook cordially.

“Is there anything we could help you, detective? I hope we haven’t done something wrong,” you began, a smile on your face trained for situations such as this.

“Oh, don’t worry. You are, Ms. Y/N L/N, I presume? And he is um…Mr. Lee Jihoon?” Detective Choi replied as he checked his papers.

“Yeah, my um…my boyfriend,” you improvised, unable to think of the most appropriate relationship with him. You had concluded that before he came him, Choi had already checked you and Jihoon’s background, which you assumed was already fabricated by the android long before you met him.

“Yeah, well…I just moved a few months ago from the west colony,” Jihoon added, his ears red, giving the illusion of him embarrassed. You were amazed how much they could do.

“Oh, I see. Recently, there’s news about escaped Nexus 9 androids and there were reports that one could be here. So just to make sure, are you willing to take a Voigt-Kampff test?” Choi asked, both you and Jihoon glancing at one another.

“Sure, who’s going to take it first?” you asked, an eager to help smile on your lips.

“You. And only you,” Choi threw in a sly grin masked as a reassuring smile as he sat on the provided seat.

“Sure, no problem. How does this go?” you replied, as you gazed back to Jihoon, who simply held your hand for comfort.

The detective installed his device on top of a metal table you provided as you sat in front of it with an unsure look on your face, wondering why you were being tested but also relieved that Jihoon wasn’t being suspected as one.

“So, these patches on your cheeks will detect slight movements on your face as I read to you scenarios that will determine whether or not you’re an android. Let’s begin?”

You nodded quietly as Choi seated himself in front of you, holding a few cards as he chose the first scenario.

“A cat was ran down by a car, its organs spilling on the asphalt.”

You felt your stomach drop as the image popped into your head. Your breath hitched as you simply frowned.

“I’m sorry…” you replied, as you studied what Choi was doing, glancing at the meter before him and taking in some notes on his small leather notebook.

“Second one. A dog has been clubbed to death because it had bitten a someone,” Choi continued, looking at you expectantly, yet you were silent.

“That’s just…cruel,” you remarked, gritting your teeth.

“I swear you’re the most quiet I’ve ever tested,” the detective confessed. “Third. You saw your mother tortured. They would hit her head when she refused to confess to a crime, and they would leave her in a freezer naked until she gives up, but that doesn’t end there. An android who looks like you is then sent to slowly cut her fingers—”

“STOP! Stop! Stop it!” you suddenly shouted, pushing yourself away from the table, as you covered your ears. Tears were already running down your cheeks as Jihoon hurriedly came to your side, crouching to your level with an arm over your scrunched figure.

“That does it. She’s an android.”

Right after he said those words, the detective grabbed a laser gun from his briefcase and pointed it at you.

Everything was swirling inside your head and you couldn’t believe your fears had materialized faster than you had expected. It would be a no-brainer if Jihoon had already planned this months before, framing you as the android instead of him, so that he could forever be free from the bounty hunters. You didn’t want to hear it right from Jihoon’s mouth that you were duped and utterly fooled since day one.

“What the fuck are you on about?! I’m the goddamn android here, not her!”

His voice rang in front of you, his words a direct confession and a death flag. The impulsiveness of Jihoon’s action had you glance up to him, who was in front of you, shielding you from the laser gun the bounty hunter was holding. You couldn’t believe what he just did.

“If you’re an android, you wouldn’t say that,” Choi retorted back with a grin. “Stop protecting your girlfriend. She’s just analog hacking you!”

“Fuck you,” Jihoon simply replied and grabbed your hand, tossing the metal table up on the air as a distraction when both of you ran towards the exit.

“Hey!” The detective shouted, running after the two of you and shooting laser beams towards your direction.

Easily, Jihoon redirected the laser beams with his electricity and it went up, hitting the concrete beam connecting the two upper labs. You knew you were toast when Jihoon carried you on his back to dodge the large blocks of rock falling. Luckily, it was also blocking the way and the two of you sped up, losing Choi on the chase.

Heading towards the nearby docking bay, the two of you hid behind towers of cargo containers and rested for a while.

“Jihoon, what was—”

“Could you shut up for a while? I’m trying to keep us two alive here.”

“Hey! I just got fucking accused as an android when I’m clearly not—”

This time, Jihoon muffled your mouth with his lips pressed against yours. It was quite effective in keeping you frozen in place.

“Be quiet or that shithead will find us. I’m not done charging yet.”

You nodded quietly, still digesting what had happened.

“Alright. Stay here and don’t come out. I’d rather not see you dead,” Jihoon bid you farewell as he climbed the tower of containers, getting high as much as possible.

“Fuck this, Jihoon!” you cursed him as he had left you alone and without anything to protect yourself.

With the highest view, Jihoon could clearly see where Choi was.

Everything had gone out of his predictions as humans again proved to be quite unpredictable. He didn’t expect the bounty hunter would accuse you as an android as it was definitely clear as day that you were human through and through. Now, he had to protect you and fend for himself, but he didn’t really feel constrained by extra work. In fact, he was more than motivated to keep the fucker’s hands away from you.

Jihoon picked up a large device sitting on top of the container. It was a large but sleek device shaped like a slim black rectangle, yet when Jihoon had pulled the handle on its center and turned it clockwise, the device had morphed into a complex weapon, large arms extended from the center as it formed into something akin to a large gun. Holding it in one hand, Jihoon pressed firmly on the trigger, and pointed it towards the unsuspecting human as electric energy poured into the device and when the blond android let the trigger go, a laser blast hurled towards Choi.

Unfortunately, Choi was too jumpy for it to hit directly and Jihoon missed within half a meter, the android clicking his tongue in irritation as it only hit the nearby container. Jihoon again turned the trigger around as the weapon transformed once more; now breaking into several floating stakes, as it spread out into the area.

Now that Choi knew where he was, Jihoon swiftly moved to the next towers to conceal his location. On the other hand, you were scrambling to cover yourself when you heard the explosion, unable to do anything but to hide. However, when you saw that the explosion had caused a domino effect among the following tower of containers, you ignored Jihoon’s warning and ran before you get squashed to death.

Jihoon knew he had to move in for the kill before Choi finds you, so in a fast attack which involved kicking the detective with a dash of electric surge as dessert, he did just that but Choi was more veteran than expected and blocked his kick with his arms lined with anti-static material. Moving away, Choi had time to shoot a few beams but were unsuccessful when Jihoon simply bent them with electric currents, hitting the containers behind them; much thanks to classical physics.

Wasting no time, Jihoon drove a punch right in Choi’s gut which had him flying towards the end of the aisle. Walking towards the bounty hunter, Jihoon was however alerted that you had moved from your place, and when he got back to Choi, the guy had already disappeared.

Y/N, why are you so talented in screwing my head over and over again?!

You ran towards wherever you found was the most peaceful and quiet. You wondered if Jihoon was fine, yet you knew that he could take on an army and return unscathed, so you weren’t that worried. Turning by the nearby alley, you found a laser gun pointed at you.

“Gotcha.”

By the time Jihoon found you, he had already found Choi pointing a gun on your head as he held you by the neck.

“I swear I can explain,” you began but Jihoon simply looked at you with an unimpressed look on his face.

“I told you to stay in one place, Y/N,” he replied back, rolling his eyes at you. “I can’t always come and save you every single time!”

“But if I don’t move, the containers will crush me! I don’t exactly want to die, Jihoon!” You retorted, your voice getting louder.

“Then what am I supposed to do? He’s got you at gun point! Now I have to think of a way to get you out of there!”

You scoffed, hands on your hips as Choi looked at the two of you awkwardly. “If you don’t want to save me, then why am I even your girlfriend? Break up with me and save your sorry ass yourself! I can take care of myself!”

Jihoon laughed mockingly, now clearly irked. “You aren’t even licensed to have a laser gun, so, how, I pray, are you supposed to fucking beat a bounty hunter?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Jihoon! I have my ways!”

“Like what? The other night you were whining about how you’re supposed to pass your subjects!”

You audibly huffed. “Ok, you’ve gone too far, you little shit. I’ll prove to you that I can do this. Let me go, detective!”

“Alright, alright! I don’t want to interrupt but we’re kinda in the middle of something here!?” Choi shouted quite annoyed, as he held on your neck tighter. “Don’t move or else I’ll blow a hole through your head.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes at you again, uncrossing his arms. “Just pull the trigger Choi. She’s just gonna be a pain all night anyway.”

“What! How dare you!” you shouted angrily, struggling around Choi’s arm holding you.

“So what do you want? Haven’t I already shown you that I’m the android here?” Jihoon ignored you completely, much to your chagrin.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll release her…if I got to shoot you,” the bounty hunter grinned, as the android simply removed his hands from his pockets.

“Alright. I’m all yours,” Jihoon immediately said, his arms up on the air as you stared at him in disbelief.

“No, wait! Fuck! I’m the android, ok? It’s not him! Kill me instead,” you cried out, writhing and panicking as soon as you saw the hunter’s gun pointed at Jihoon. “No, no! Shit.”

Without any explanation, Choi had let go of you and of course, you came running towards Jihoon’s side.

“Bye-bye.”

In a split second, Jihoon knew what was about to happen and it didn’t take him long to find a solution.

He pulled you towards him as soon as he had reached you and when Choi pulled the trigger of his laser gun, Jihoon was already behind you, covering your back from the oncoming laser beam. He didn’t know he actually felt something about death—he didn’t want to. Yet, for your sake, he’ll catch the bullet.

You were thrown to the ground in a painful blow, unable to process what had just happened. You sensed Jihoon covering your back, holding you tightly, as black smoke from what the beam had hit rose to the air.

“You two passed the test.”

Choi’s words echoed across the desolate cargo bay as he dropped his laser gun, walking away from you two. The meaning of the bounty hunter’s words finally got to you, and finally checked if Jihoon was alright. As it turned out, he was already gazing at you with a puzzled look on his face.

“Why? Why did you kill me?” Jihoon asked, his voice ringing.

Choi stopped walking. “An android will never sacrifice his life for someone else. Especially when she’s not his owner.”

“T-thank you!” You yelled back, your hand shaking as Jihoon held on it tightly.

“No worries, ma’am. These days, being a bounty hunter warrants more effort than I’m getting paid for. I’m exhausted. I’ll see you somewhere these days.”

He didn’t look back.

“We’re seriously looking into that empathy organ,” you remarked, settling in between Jihoon’s arms as you watched the colony rotate the solar panels outside the glass dome of the cargo bay.

Jihoon felt a circuit jump, or maybe it was a binary code—he didn’t care that much, but nonetheless, in human terms, he felt happy. Tightening his arms around you, Jihoon pulled you closer to his body.

“Does that mean you want to try the experiment?” he asked with a restrained grin, looking down on your face as his platinum blond bangs brushed against your cheek.

“We humans call it dating. But since you’re an android, everything’s an experiment,” you replied with a playful smirk, which then disappeared when you sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you before.”

Jihoon shook his head. “It’s okay. That’s understandable. I’m aware we androids have a penchant for analog hack, and I was warned I might be doing it unconsciously. I don’t want that to happen.”

“I’ll trust you despite that. It’s going to be hard but let’s see if that empathy organ is the real deal,” you grinned, poking his side.

“Are you sure?” Jihoon asked. “It’s going to be like infecting yourself with the disease and checking if the cure is effective.”

You chuckled. “Great analogy. But I know what I’m doing. Who knows we might have stumbled upon the future already.”

“If it’s enough for me to act mushy and cringey like this, I guess it’s stronger than we have estimated,” Jihoon joked around as both of you laughed together.

“We’ll see.”

Jihoon nodded and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. “We’ll see.”

-Hyeri

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen hoshi #hoshi #kwon soonyoung

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